The Nekoalliance
by Eurotintin
Summary: When America catches Italy plundering Britain's house, they both end up in a situation...as cats. Now the two must find equal ground if they want to get back to normal. Not only that, but with their absence, the other nations (particularly Germany and Britain), start to suspect each other. How far will these warlike tensions rise? Cat!America and Cat!Italy
1. British wares

**I DO NOT own Hetalia or any of its characters.**

**...Nor do I own the history of the world :3**

* * *

"Ve…."

Italy sighed as he sauntered shamefully along. His usual attire when in this mood.

"I can't do anything right," he muttered to himself, "I don't understand how Germany can be so successful in everything he does. I mean, how come things are always so easy for him and not me? I'm not that different!"

Italy stopped and started thinking.

"Well, sure, maybe I'm not exactly as strong as he is….or that good with weapons….or maps….or spying….or cleaning…or concentrating—but still!"

Italy looked up with determination holding up a trembling fist to display it to the world as he spurted out that last statement (even though no one was watching or frankly cared).

Suddenly he noticed Britain in the distance. All at once Italy started trembling, his face turning blue as his prominent curl shook with dread. His head spinning like a top looking for a place to hide, he quickly hid himself with absolute perfection in the bushes close by. Still trembling with face blue as ice from fear, he peeked over the shrubbery with a leaf perched on his head. He smiled trying to reassure himself in his uncontrollable fright.

"See Veneziano? You are good at something! No one knows quite how to run or hide like you, do they?" His smile vanished as he watched Britain. Just the mere sight of that horrible bushy-brow'd brute was enough to cause Italy to want to faint. "Oh Germany! Germany where are you! Help me Germany!" he muttered to himself as if he actually expected his ally to appear out of nowhere to save him, "Britain is going to find me and capture me and then torture me for information! Oh no, what if he makes me eat his food again? Oh Mi Dio! Not the British food torture! I'll go crazy if I ever have to eat anything he makes ever again! Oh Germany help me! HELP ME!"

Perhaps if Britain wasn't so fixated on the work he had to complete or the trouble his key was giving him with his front door, he would have noticed the bushes shaking not far off. Fortunately for Italy, Britain was far too caught up in his frustration to notice the country sneaking in the shrubs.

"Damn key!" he swore to himself, his huge brows caved into his face as his eyes squinted angrily at the source of his frustration, "Quit being such a wanker and do your bloody job or I'll do to you what Oliver Cromwell did to my people in 1648!"

As if feeling the gravity of this threat, the key instantly obeyed and locked the door without further problem. Britain sighed in relief and hid the key in the flowers that were seated on the outside of his window. He pulled out his fob watch and checked the time before going to his 1940 Bristol car and speeding off to a pressing meeting he had with his older siblings from the UK circle. He was a little anxious about seeing Scotland in particular (they had never really been on solid interactive terms).

Italy finally calmed down as soon as he heard Britain's car drive off into the distance. He rose out of the bushes, brushing off his blue uniform of the various leaves he collected while hiding.

"Ve~! I sure glad that's over. Whew! I was really scared he would find me!" Italy walked over to Britain's house and searched the flower bed and saw the key Britain hid earlier. Just at that moment, an idea swept over him.

"It sounded like Britain wouldn't be coming back for a long time! I'll bet he has some important stuff that he's hiding in his house! I'll show Germany I am a really, really good ally! I'll go in and take all the important information to him! Then Germany will never, ever, ever doubt me again and we can be friends forever!"

Italy took the key and inserted it into the lock smiling with determination, "At the very least, I can take any good food he has. I'll rescue all the pasta ingredients and save them from the horrid fate of being cooked by Britain!"

With a quick turn, he opened the door and entered the house. He was really expecting something scary in the house of Britain, but he had to admit it looked rather nice.

"He likes to keep things neat too." Italy noted as he wandered along, "Of course, Germany still is far neater and tidier than anyone could ever be!"

He bumped into a small corner stand which had an old lantern placed on it. Britain never used it much, but he liked to keep it around as a memoir of sorts. But when Italy ran into it, the old thing fell right off of its stand and crashed on the ground breaking the glass and letting oil flow into the nice wooden floor. Italy must've leapt 5 feet in the air (it was a good thing the ceiling was relatively high) when he heard the crash, but calmed down as soon as he saw it was his own doing.

"Ve~, that' scared me! I thought Britain was coming for me!" he looked down at the mess he made and noticed something odd. He leaned down to pick up the strange object which came from the broken lamp.

"Ve! A key! It looks pretty old…I wonder what it was doing in that old lamp? Maybe it's to some special room that Britain keeps all his secrets in!" Italy may not have realized it at that moment, but his assumption was right to some extent. He started checking the rooms of the house, but found nothing he deemed important. Unfortunately it seemed that Italy's sense of 'important' was iffy considering he completely overlooked cabinets filled with files in Britain's office which contained records and codes that were strictly kept for British Intelligence. "Yep, nothing worth much here!" Italy said flippantly as he closed the door to the information-stuffed British office.

He had been wandering around the house for some time, but didn't find much he felt he could use. "Ve…perhaps this whole 'spy' idea wasn't so successful after all. I guess I'd better go to the kitchen and find those pasta ingredients before I leave."

Italy walked his way over to the kitchen and found he had to go through the library. His eye quickly glossed over the thick, information-filled books that stuffed the shelves. Then, his eye caught one of the books and he squealed with joy."

"Ve~! I know that book!" he said pulling out a relatively small book in comparison to the others. "Le Avventure di Pinocchio! I didn't know that Britain cared for my literature this much!" If the Italian had half a critical-thinking mind, he would have questioned why on earth a great and powerful nation like Britain kept an Italian fairy tale book on the shelves of his library next to only huge tactical information manuals that were strictly focused on his country alone. However, even if Italy did begin wondering this, he wouldn't have waited long to find an answer. For not long after he started flipping the pages of his book, he heard a low rumbling sound. He dropped the book and started shaking crying "Germany! Germany help! Britain's house is going to eat me and I didn't even get to have my last meal of pasta yet!"

Italy turned to see that one of the bookshelves had opened up revealing a secret entrance. It would be unfortunate for anyone who had discovered it since there was still a locked door present behind the bookshelf. However, Italy was still pretty good at putting together two and two and quickly pulled the key he had found earlier from his pocket and inserted it into the keyhole.

"Magnifico!" he exclaimed happily, "It fits! I'm sure there's got to be some secret things behind here!"

Italy opened the door and slowly walked down the old stone steps. He held both his clutched hands to his chest as the room got darker and darker. He walked down and down until it felt as if he was walking to the very core of the world. With each step, the Italian became more frightened, but his determination to prove himself outweighed his desire to run (for once) and he kept going.

At last he came to the bottom. It was pitch black and he couldn't see a thing. Even the light from the open door was as faint as a star now. Italy trembled and swallowed hard before opening his mouth.

"C…C-C-Ciao…Is anyone here…?"

To his surprise and relief, a few candles lit up. Most people would have been concerned that they lit up on their own, but Italy was glad enough to have some light, so it didn't really matter much to him. He looked around in awe at what he saw.

"Oh…this room is enormous! And there are so many strange things in here!"

Italy started to look through the shelves, but he couldn't make head or tails of what any of this stuff could possibly be for. On the old iron shelves, there were bottles of elixirs which let off strange and ominous lights. There were old dusty books that were falling apart at the seams and a little further off, he could see a book halfway in the process of being bound together. Britain had spent much of his time lately rewriting and binding new versions of his spell books since the old ones were beginning to fall apart. Italy looked at the floor and noticed that there was a huge circular indent in the floor with lots of star shapes in it. He didn't know what it was or why it was there, but he had a bad feeling about it and took care not to step close to it.

Italy focused his attention on the strange ingredients which lined the walls. Each of the jars and vials were neatly labeled in either English or Latin. Italy's English was a bit rusty, but most of the Latin he got without trouble. However, even in Latin, the labels confused him and some of the names said things he really didn't care to ask about such as, 'Eye of Newt' or 'Wyvern Venom'.

"Ve…what is Britain doing with all this weird stuff? Uh…he's scarier than I thought!"

Italy trembled a little before his eye caught hold of a deep, royal purple cloth bag. It kind of reminded him of the sack of wurst that Germany cooked for him that one time to reassure him of their friendship. Italy reached up and plucked the sack from where it sat, it was not very large and sat in both of his hands quite comfortably.

"I'll bet this is something good!" Italy said to himself, "This should be just fine! Now to get out of this scary place!"

Italy ran right back up those eerie stairs faster than one could say 'Pasta!' Out he shot from that Brit's house and wandered through the backwoods of England, not wanting to risk running into Britain by accident. After a while, he stopped to look at the bag.

"I wonder what's in here?" Italy muttered to himself, "It feels a little heavy, I wonder if I should open it up or-."

"Stop right there!"

Italy leapt in the air for what must've been the hundredth time that day. He turned around, hoping that it was just another unnecessary scare, but this time, he had reason to fear.

As Italy had left Britain's house and ran off into the woods, America had wandered over to say 'hi' to his Allied comrade when to his surprise, he saw Italy leave the house carrying something with him. Curious, he ran after the Axis country as stealthily as he could. He only announced his presence when he saw what Italy was holding. He remembered seeing that same particle in the possession of Britain not long ago.

The memory flashed in his mind….

_"You bloody git!" Britain shouted at America pointing a finger accusingly at him, "You are the most selfish, egotistical clod I've ever known! And believe me, I've known a few!"_

_"Dude Britain," America replied coolly, "I'm the hero, I don't need to justify what I do to you!"_

_"Oh really?" Britain said with a smug scowl. He fumbled and pulled out that same bag and held it over his head as if preparing to throw it. "Then I don't need to justify my actions…"_

_Britain halted and thought for a moment before letting out a clearly frustrated breath and returning the item to his briefcase. America could hear him mutter something under his breath about, "wasting so much time making this for you." before tramping off._

"Whatever that Italy dude's got in his hand, he must've stolen it from Britain!" America smiled, "No fear! I'll get it back, or I'm not the hero I say I am!"

And with this thought in mind, America charged towards Italy shouting fiercely, "Stop right there! Give that back right now you thief!"

America might have had international interactions, but he was more attuned to his own country's matters than with those of the outside world. Thus, his knowledge concerning the other nations wasn't as crisp as it might have been. And anyone who knows Italy's kind knows that they are never faster when they are retreating from an enemy.

"Help! Germany! Germany! A big, strong, scary nation is attacking me! Help me Germany!"

"Germany isn't around pal!" America shouted. "fraid' you'll have to answer for what you've done yourself!"

Italy may have been fast, but America was a persistent fellow. No matter how far or how fast Italy ran, America never stopped giving up the chase. And so, for a long while, Italy and America did nothing but run deeper and deeper into the forest until all at once, Italy looked back to see if America was tiring and his foot caught on a snag in the ground and down he went.

"Oww….." Italy whined as tears started leaking out of his eyes. He heard footsteps walking calmly behind him and shuddered as he saw an all too familiar shadow come over him. He looked behind him to see America triumphantly standing over him with a victorious grin on his face.

"Thought you could outrun the hero huh?" America said plucking Italy from the ground. Italy curled up in a fetal little ball as America held him singlehandedly by the collar in the air. At that moment, Italy protected one of his greatest titles and did what he is known for doing best…

…begging endlessly for his life.

"Please don't hurt me!" he screamed as tears flustered around his face and head, "I never did anything wrong! I'm a good little Italia! I won't do it again I promise! You wouldn't hurt a reformed nation would you? It's not nice and I don't think Germany would like it! Please, I'm sorry! I won't tell Germany! We don't have to tell him! We don't have to tell anyone! It'll be our secret I promise! We can make an alliance! Just the two of us! We don't have to be part of the Allies or the Axis! We can just be allies between the two of us! I'll be the miserable little underling and you can boss me around as much as you want! Doesn't that sound good! I'll tell you anything you want! I'll tell you what I read before bed or how much pasta I eat in a month! I'll tell you anything, just don't hit me! You wouldn't hit me would you? I'm practically an American! I have relatives in Brooklyn you see! We're related you and I!"

America looked at the whining nation blankly and quickly covered his mouth after hearing his fill of begging.

"Dude, two things. First, most of what you said just went in one ear and right out the other. Secondly, EVERYONE has relatives in Brooklyn.

"Oh…" Italy said softly thinking about this for a moment, "You're not going to hit me are you?"

"Meh," America shrugged, "probably."

"No! No! No! Please don't hit me!"

"Dude calm down, I was just jokin'. Just give me that parcel and we're cool."

"Here! You can take it!" Italy exclaimed quickly handing the bag over to the other nation. America, still clasping Italy's collar in his right hand, looked at the satchel curiously in his other.

"So…what is this exactly?" he asked.

Italy shrugged, "No idea, I just found it and thought it might be German food, so I took it!"

"Seriously? Thank God dude, I'm starved!"

America held the lip of the bag in his teeth, still clutching Italy, and reached in for something to eat. But what he pulled out was nothing of the sort. It was a pure crystal globular flask which had some deep red fluid swirling around inside it. America held the neck of the bottle and looked at it curiously.

"Wait, I thought you said this was food." America looked to Italy.

Italy shook his head fervently thinking America was looking for an excuse to smack him. "No! No! I just assumed it was wurst! I didn't look inside! I swear! Please don't hit me!"

America ignored him and looked at the flask with interest. Finally, he gave up and sighed.

"Well, I guess I'll just return this to Britain and figure out what to do with you. I'll probably just end up putting you in a box like last time and sending it back to…"

America looked around several times. He had been so focused on catching Italy that he failed to notice where they were. He found himself in the middle of an enormous, tall grassy field surrounded by thick woods. He felt himself sweating in embarrassment before looking to Italy, still clutched within his hand.

"Yo dude, you know the way back?"

Italy just noticed that they were in the middle of nowhere and looked around fervently. "I have no idea. I was just worried about trying to get away from you! Ve! It's getting dark and stormy! What if there are ghosts here? I've heard that Britain's place is filled with them!"

America started shaking when he heard the word 'ghosts'. He tried to make himself brave, especially considering an Axis power guy was with him. "Ha!" he laughed nervously, "I'm not scared of any stupid, rotten…"

A single flash and thunder and lightning was enough to quickly do away with his upcoming statement as he jumped in terror along with Italy as they both screamed ""GHOSTS!" very loudly. In fact, America was so traumatized, that he lost his grip on the bottle and watched helplessly as it fell the ground. The crystal smashed into a thousand fragments as the red liquid turned into a thick cloud of smoke that enveloped both Italy and America. Both began coughing heavily and tried to get away.

"Ve! What is happening?" Italy cried out from fear.

"No idea bro! But…but…" America swayed as he felt weariness come over him. Yawning loudly he felt his knees hit the ground below him, "I…think I'll just sleep here for a little….Zzzzzzz." And just like that, he was fast asleep on the ground.

"Wait! Don't fall asleep!" Italy shouted trying to wake him, "I don't want to be…alone…" but Italy too found that he just couldn't keep his eyes open and laid down on the grass. "I think…I'll have my siesta now…" he said before collapsing into sleep.

And the two slept very soundly as the red cloud of strange elixir from Britain worked its magic….literally.


	2. Those Aren't Hands

**I DO NOT own Hetalia or any of its characters.**

**...nor do I claim to own the history of the world :3**

* * *

America blinked a few times before finally forcing his eyes to stay open. It was still somewhat stormy and he could hear rumbling thunder a ways off, but it wasn't as fierce as that first crash he had heard. He yawned loudly and smacked his mouth a few times. He tilted his head in confusion as he noticed how his tongue felt a little rough against the roof of his mouth.

He shrugged, "Meh, probably just feels that way cuz' my mouth is dry." He noticed how thirsty he felt. "Man, am I parched! Too bad I left that pack of cola in the car. I sure could use it now!"

America pushed himself up from his lying position and tried walking forward, but he felt some kind of heavy restriction blocking his movement. He wriggled and struggled until he at last tumbled his way out of whatever was containing him. After letting out a gruff breath, he took a few paces and looked around. Something wasn't right.

"I know I was in a field with tall grass, but this is ridiculous!" he looked up as he saw the tall brown plants tower over him. Before, they only came up to his waist at the most, but now it was like he was in the amazon jungle or something.

"It wasn't this tall the last time I was standing! At least…I don't think it was when I was standing…" America started to acknowledge that he felt a little strange. Not that he was sick, but something about his posture felt off. Nothing hurt or felt strained in any way, it just didn't feel…well…correct.

He quickly shook it off as a mere disorientation from waking. He huffed in agitation as he realized how difficult it was going to be determining where to go with such tall foliage about him. If only there was something to stand on to get a better view. He then remembered the thing that was holding him down from when he woke up. Maybe he could use it!

America turned and was surprised at what he found. A leather jacket lay sprawled on the ground with the sleeves in a bent, crumpled position. It lay on the ground so that the back was facing up. America walked over to it, frowning.

"Man, who would throw out such a nice jacket like this? It's in such great quality too! Why, they don't make em' like this anymore. Although, I'd have to say, it is rather big. But still, you'd have to be an idiot to get rid of…."

He paused when he began looking a little more closely at it. It looked really familiar….a little too familiar. The airplane on the left sleeve, the dark, brown fluff around the neck, the giant white '50' on the back, and he was pretty sure he could see a star in a white circle patch on the front, no doubt about it, it was his.

"What's my jacket doing on the ground? I thought I was wearing it!" America exclaimed, but he was to be even more surprised when he noticed something lying beneath his thick jacket. Looking carefully, he pulled back in astonishment.

"Wait isn't that my shirt and tie? What's that doing there? And aren't those my gloves? And my boots! And my…pants?!"

America felt his face grow hot with embarrassment. He wasn't going to look at himself and he didn't even want to consider the idea that was trying to squeeze its way into his mind. "Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think- wait, where's Italy?"

He turned his head looking for the other nation that had wandered out with him. He looked and looked, but he couldn't see any sign of him. He kept pushing the desire to find the Italian in the front of his mind in order to ignore the pressing sensation that something was horridly wrong about how he was walking around.

He was beginning to wonder if Italy had just run off when he heard a soft "Ve~" not far off. He listened closely and began recognizing the sound of several soft 've's coming from not far off. America was glad because he really didn't want to go looking for him nor did he really want to wander too far from his clothing (which he still refused to think about too deeply).

Weaving between tall grass, he followed the sounds until he came upon a spot of flattened grass. Spread out on the ground, much like his own clothes, was a blue uniform. Not just the blue jacket, but the black shirt, tie, blue pants and boots as well. But none of those things were what shocked him. A little, light brown calico cat with a dark brown patch seated right between its ears was curled quite comfortably within Italy's clothes. Not on or under them, No, its round face was sticking out of the neck hole of Italy's uniform. And its fore-paws were sticking out the sleeves which were extremely crumpled up in order to let them through. America stared for a minute at this strange sight.

"What in the world is a cat doing in Italy's clothes? I know he likes cats but for Pete's sake, he's not Greece! And for that matter, how did my clothes end up on the ground? And what was the deal with that freaky red cloud that knocked me out earlier? Was it some kind of new sleeping gas Britain's been developing or somthin'?"

English weather, being what it is, is never dry for very long. A single drop of rain fell and hit America directly on his nose causing him to blink from surprise. He wiped it dry and returned to his thinking.

"Is this some joke France is pulling? I swear he's got issues. I mean that whole April Fool's photo deal was messed up as it is, but this is…."

America paused as realization spread on his face. He stayed frozen for a moment before slowly lifting his hand to his face. When he felt his breath against his palm, he hesitated for a moment in apprehension of what he would discover. Swallowing hard, he very delicately touched his nose again.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. The shape and texture of his nose was off. A small portion of it felt as it should have with soft skin, but on the bridge, there was short hair covering it all over. As his hand traveled further up his face, he discovered that the fur had not been restricted to his nose. Oh no, it was all over his face, and not like a beard. It was on his cheeks, under his eyes, on his eyelids, on his forehead. For a moment, America thought that he had developed some kind of disease with unnatural hair growth as he had often seen on those science channels. But when his touch reached the top of his head, he brought the other arm up to feel as well.

"W-what are these?" he whispered to himself desperately. He felt his heart beat harder and faster with each passing second. On top of his head, he felt two stiff organs which gave way whenever he pressed down on them. They were positioned at the top of his head, but he could still recognize the nerve signals that were sent every time he felt them.

"Are these." He stammered, "Are these my ears?"

America then became conscious of how different his hands felt and he brought them down to get a better look at them. He felt himself begin to have trouble breathing as he saw what was before him. A pair of small, delicate paws which had a very faint buttery color was seated where his hands should have been. His gaze traveled down his arms which too had changed from the long muscular shape he was familiar with into hardy front legs. His chin touched his chest as he brought his paws down to feel his furry underside. Below, he saw his hindquarters and under them, two rear paws sticking out which he knew belonged to him.

He sat there for a moment breathing shakily. He felt his terror rise up within him, practically choking him. His gut was twisting itself in silent angst and he knew a panic attack was just waiting to hit him. But he also knew that going to pieces right there would do him little good and he forcefully swallowed his fear. He could still feel it sitting quietly in the bottom of his gut, but he felt a little calmer now.

"Just think of it like all those times you had to go into battle," he said to himself, "you need to keep a straight head, otherwise it'll screw loose. Besides, there are plenty of chances to do that with all those horror movies back at home. Right now, you need to be the hero!"

He felt something on his face and brought his paws up to feel. Some kind of cold metal was perched on his nose. He managed to get a hold of it pulled it off his face.

"Hey! Looks like I'm still wearing my glasses! Go figure!" He slipped them back on his face and shifted his neck a little.

"I know I'm not wearing any clothes, which doesn't bother me that much anymore now that I know I'm covered with all this fur, but it still feels like I'm wearing my fighter jacket."

America patted his neck with his paws and felt a mass of fur which ran around his neck like a collar. He could also just barely see that it was a deep brown color like the wool around his jacket's neck.

"I guess I've just got a lot of fur around my neck...weird."

He brought his paws down and looked at them for a moment. He flexed them a few times before sighing.

"Man, this isn't going to be easy to deal with, I can tell right now."

His ears alerted him once more to the sound of soft snoring. America looked back up at the cat curled up in Veneziano's clothing. It was only then that America caught sight of that great curl sprouting from the feline's head.

"If I've been turned into a cat, does that mean that Italy…" there was no mistake in America's mind. It was none other than Italy lying there in his own clothing. Although they were a bit large for him now to say the least.

America walked over, understanding now why he felt so weird walking before. "I can't believe something as bizarre as walking on all fours could feel so natural and at the same time feel so wrong."

America looked at Italy for a moment and then poked him with his left paw. "Hey," he said. Italy stayed asleep, "Hey!" America said again, this time a little louder. Italy remained firmly locked within his slumber just as before. America sighed and readied his New York tone

"Hey! Wake up you lazy bum!" he thundered into Italy's ear.

Italy rose with a start, his face flustered as he waved his head back and forth frantically. "I'm sorry Germany! I went to bed early, I swear! I promise I wasn't up sneaking extra pasta from your kitchen! Please don't make me run an extra fifty laps! They make me late for my siesta!"

Italy calmed down and looked at America for a moment. For the longest time, neither one said a single word.

Suddenly Italy leapt straight out of his clothes and cried with joy, "Kitty! Kitty! Kitty!" He danced with happiness around America, his curl bouncing all over the place. America looked at him with blank white eyes.

"Are his legs made of springs or something?" he thought to himself, "Geez, Iggy's neighbors sure are weird."

Italy finally stopped his bouncing and raised his paw to pet America. America felt himself sweat from the awkwardness of the moment. It must have been pretty funny seeing a cat pet another cat like that.

"Ve~!" Italy smiled with glee, "You're so cute! You look like a little lion with that fur around your neck!"

America grumbled, "And you look like an idiot with that expression on your face." he retorted smugly.

Italy froze as soon as he heard America speak. Suddenly he lurched back with a flustered expression.

"Ve?! You can talk? Fantastico! I've never met a cat that can speak! Japan told me that he thought he heard his cat speak once, but I never believed him! This is incredibile! You're cute and molto inteligente!"

"I don't want to brag, but this hero is pretty amazing!" America smiled, "but I'm not a cat Italy."

Italy looked at America with wonder. "Ve! You even know my name! Amazing!"

"Listen! I'm not a cat! It's me! America! I'm America!"

Italy stared at America through those squinty little eyes of his and went quiet for a while. He suddenly started giggling.

"Silly kitty!" He said petting America's head once more (which made America feel awkward like never before), "You can't be America! America's a nation, not a cat! Although it would be nice if he was." Italy thought aloud, "Maybe he wouldn't be so scary if he was a cute little cat."

"But I am America!" America persisted, "I was turned into a cat! I'm not the only one either! You've become a cat too! Look!"

America stepped forward, and sat on his haunches. Taking both paws, he raised Italy's own little paws in front of his face. He stepped back and watched as Italy looked at them strangely.

"….what?...what is this?..."

Italy poked at his paws and moved them around over and over. He then started to feel his face, his ears and the rest of himself discovering the changes in his form. America had to do all he could to keep from grinning. He knew Italy was feeling a lot of panic right now just like he was not long ago, but it was funny to watch him go through the motions of discovering his new shape. He wondered if he himself looked that silly when realizing his own transformation. He was still curious to see what he looked like and wished he had a mirror or something to look at himself.

Italy meanwhile, was sweating a freezing river. His head felt light as he became more and more aware of the reality. He started shaking like the wind itself and felt his poor little heart shrivel up in his chest. America might have thought he was scared, but his fear was nowhere nearly as bad as Italy's was. Italy felt tears squeeze out of the corners of his weepy eyes as little whimpers started to slip out of his kitten shaped mouth.

"Um…dude…" America said slowly leaning his head close to Italy's face, "…You ok bro?"

All at once, Italy thrust his head upwards knocking his skull against America's. America held his injured head with his paws as he fell on his back. He squinted one eye open to witness Italy start bawling as he flailed on the ground like a rolling pin, eyes spurting tears like a broken sprinkler.

"Germany! Germany where are you?" Italy wept like a little child, "Germany come save me! I'm scared Germany! I feel so small and weak! I don't want to stay like this! Germany help me! Germany! G-Germany! GERMANYYY!"

* * *

Somewhere, miles away, a man tossed and turned in his bed. He was sweating in cold fear as if some demon was plaguing him. He tossed and turned trying to find some form of peace, but none came to him. The more he twisted and turned, the hotter he became which only provoked his sweating. He grasped the sheets in angst, clawing at them as his head jerked from left to right over and over throughout the night.

On and on this went, growing worse and worse by the minute. Until at last the man shot up in his bed huffing deeply, his hands still coiled around the blankets.

He raised his hand to his head to stroke his fair hair back into order. His frozen cerulean eyes wavered in uncertainty as he looked out of the window in his bedroom. Walking to the glass, he watched as the autumn leaves fell around his yard under the harvest moon and ground his teeth in worry.

"Italy…" he muttered, "….Dammit…what kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into now?"


	3. Magical Shopping List

**I DO NOT own Hetalia or any of its characters.**

**...nor do I claim to own the history of the world :3**

* * *

An hour.

An whole hour.

An entire…damn….HOUR… of nonstop whining.

America thought he would never have any trouble with loud noises after all those ear shattering wars, industrial projects, jet engines, stampedes, extreme sports, space travel, and especially all those American holidays he would throw year after year.

"I stand corrected." He muttered dully.

Italy hadn't stopped wallowing in his own tears for all that time or once let up calling for Germany. And from the looks and sounds of it, it didn't appear like he was going to let up anytime soon.

"Geez man! Don't you have an off switch or something? I mean, seriously dude! You're not the only one having to deal with tiny thumbs here!"

Italy acted as though he didn't hear a word America said and continued to whine. Calling on and on for Germany as if there was nothing else in the world that could be done.

"Germany please! Can't you hear me! I can't deal with this on my own! I'm too weak and frightened! Please Germany, where are you? Germany! Germany!"

America let out a deep sigh. He couldn't understand why on earth Germany would keep such a weak, crybaby of a nation with him.

"I mean honestly, this guy is hopeless!" America thought to himself, "Heck, me and the Allies sent him back like...what? Three times in a row? I've heard of just wanting to protect other nations, but it's hard to believe Germany is the kind of guy to help this sorry dude out on a regular basis. Although come to think of it, I have heard something about France wanting to own Italy himself, I don't really know why though. What could this guy have to offer? Ah...!"

America felt something hit his head. He flinched and looked upwards. The sky had been drizzling very lightly for a while now, almost to the point where it couldn't even be felt. America felt more moisture from the spray of Italy's tears than the weather. However, he could see that it was starting to come down a lot heavier now, soon the whole area was going to be swallowed in mud. America stared with contempt at the endless gray clouds.

"Oh, come on!" he moaned to the sky. He picked himself off the ground and ran over to his leather jacket and seized the collar firmly in his teeth knowing his paws would be of little use.

"I can part with the rest, but I'm not losing this old boy!" he muttered to himself through his teeth.

America started dragging the hefty jacket through the tall grass. This would have been laughably easy for him back when he was working with two legs, but between the bulk of the jacket, the drag, and the blocking reeds, the American had to admit it was a pretty tough job for a cat, even if the cat was a hero like himself.

Italy finally stopped himself from crying when he saw America wandering away from him. He panicked and ran at full speed towards the other cat crying, "_Waiiiiiiiiit!_"

America looked up just in time to see Italy slam into him which sent them rolling through the mud and the reeds. America pushed Italy off of him and stared at his still sobbing face. "Not cool man!" he chastised, "Not cool!"

"Don't leave me alone! I can't be alone! It's way too scary way out here! I don't want to be alone!" Italy started bawling again.

"Oh…oh don't start that again! Come on man, get off! Get…Gn…ok fine! You and I can hang, but if we're taggin' together, you gotta' help me with my jacket. Ok?"

Italy managed to dry his tears some and climb off of America. They both went back to America's jacket and dragged it slowly but surely through the field of reeds. Eventually they crossed to the other side of the field and found their way back into the forest. It was a good thing too, if they had stayed too long, they might've ended up like the rest of their clothes which got sucked right up in the thick mud that soon emerged from the pouring rain. No chance of seeing them again.

America and Italy dragged the cumbersome jacket along the forest floor. Italy soon became weary of the work. He dropped the jacket from his mouth and shivered.

"Ve…I'm cold and tired. I think it's going to keep raining for a while."

Although America was annoyed with Italy's 'quitter' attitude, he had to admit that he had a point. He looked around and saw a horde of roots which created a little hole in the ground that looked large enough to accompany the two of them.

"Over there! Let's spend the night in this hole. I don't think we're going to make it anywhere else tonight. My jacket should keep us warm!"

Italy shivered picking up the jacket in his mouth along with America. The two of them dragged the leather jacket into the hole and wriggled their way under it.

Fortunately, the burrow they found was a rather nice find. It was seated above another set of roots which kept any water from coming in. Plus there was a nice layer of moss all along the inside making it plenty soft and dry inside. However, despite this, the two were still cold, wet, and caked in mire.

"Ve…I'm completely covered in mud." Italy muttered to himself wearily as he looked tiredly at his paw which was dark brown from muck, "I wish there was a fire to wa…We-…Ve-...Ve-CHOO!" he sneezed.

"Gesundheit." America muttered as Italy scratched his little nose.

"Grazie Germany…oh! I'm sorry! I'm just so used to being around Germany… and then you used a German phrase so I…"

"It's cool dude, I get ya'." America said drearily. He was too exhausted from tugging his jacket through that terrain to care what Italy called him. In a short moment, his eyes drooped closed behind his spectacles and he entered into a deep sleep.

As soon as Italy saw that America was sound asleep, he let out a soft "Ve…" and shifted closer to him in order to get as warm as he could. With the shared heat from the two cats, the fighter jacket soon warmed right up and dried them both. Despite being covered in dirt, Veneziano felt a little better being warm and dry. He looked up at the underside of the forest canopy and watched as great fat drops of rain came plummeting down.

This experience reminded him a little of all the training exercises and camps that he and Germany went through together. But this wasn't the same, Italy felt lonely and frightened without Germany close by. He wished he had never attempted to do something as foolish as looking through Britain's secrets. He wondered if he would be able to look Germany in the face when he saw him again, or maybe Germany would hate him for being so stupid again and leave him.

"Ve~. Come on Veneziano," Italy said to himself trembling from the chilly air that differed from his home's bright warm glow, "Germany is your friend. Sure he'll get a little mad, but he won't abandon you...right?"

Eventually, he tucked his paws under his body and rested his head on the soft moss. "Germany. Germany, please find me. I'm scared Germany." He whispered as he fell asleep alongside America.

* * *

After a long strenuous day of dealing with his elder brothers, Britain wanted nothing more than to have a nice long rest in his favorite arm chair with his best brand of hot tea, a few scones and tea biscuits, and maybe even get a few chapters in on that book he was reading before going to bed. He fumbled for his key in the flowerpot not minding the heavy rain (being the country of rain after all), but was surprised to find it not hidden where he last placed it.

"The devil did that blasted key…?"

His eye caught a glint as he turned to the door. The glinting brass key sat within the keyhole to his front door. Britain reached and grabbed the handle and as he feared, the door opened with ease. Reaching inside his jacket, he pulled out the pistol he kept with him at all times. After all, what would the top authority on spy tactics be without a weapon with him at all times?

He stepped into the house cautiously, listening keenly for any sounds of someone walking around. Britain had mapped and memorized every creak and groan the house made and quite easily slipped into the kitchen without making so much as a scuffle. He carefully peered into the kitchen and heightened his senses for any noise. However, his eye looked outside the window above his sink and he saw a bright orange-yellow ford mustang with black stripes running down the hood. He sighed and dropped his gun, relaxing and nodding disapprovingly as he walked out the kitchen. Slipping the gun back into its holster, he placed his hands on his hips and shouted loud enough for anyone throughout the entire house to hear.

"Alright America, joke's over! I know it's you!" he paused for a while and waited for the sound of annoying laughter or banging footsteps to echo somewhere in the house. But after a good long while, nothing happened. Britain sighed and shook his head.

"It's no use America! I can see your car out of my kitchen window!" he removed his coat and placed it on the rack by the front door and unstrapped his gun holster as well hanging it up alongside it. He slipped the suspenders off his shoulders and stretched his back. He glanced up at the stairs half expecting to see America standing there with his big stupid grin, but no sight befell the Brit's eyes.

"You want to play it that way?" Britain challenged, "Fine! I'm not looking for you like some underpaid babysitter! If you want your car keys, you just come to me! I know you always keep them over your back left tire! Honestly, that's the most basic place to look for keys! You're going to get your car stolen one of these days with that tactic!"

The British gentleman march outside to the car and searched the back left tire. Sure enough, the keys were right where he anticipated. He removed them and twirled them around his index finger as he marched into the house with a smug expression. Placing them in his pocket, he set about making himself a nice cup of tea. He was rather anxious to try some of the herbal that Japan had recently given to him as a gift.

"I have to say, Japan certainly knows how to make a damn good cup of tea, but he still has a ways to go if he ever expects to beat my tea!"

He placed the water and herbs on his stove and pulled out the tea-set he had kept for centuries and spent many tea times with. He went to his cupboard and pulled out some tea biscuits and scones and placed them very neatly on the2 tea tray along with some elegantly folded napkins. He figured that he minus well bring out the cupcakes if America was over. It was fortunate enough that he had baked some this morning and had left them in the fridge to cool. He pulled them out and quickly mixed some icing to cover the tops with.

He was just putting the final touches on the last one when the high pitched whistle of the teapot rang out. Britain smiled.

"That has to be the second most wonderful sound in the world. The first obviously being France in trouble." He chuckled to himself.

Pulling the oven mitt from the wall, he grasped the teapot handle firmly and quickly removed the top of the ornamental teapot. With precision and skill of an ageless expert, Britain poured every last drop of tea into the teapot without getting so much as a splatter of tea anywhere but inside the teapot. Without a moment's hesitation, he clinked the top back on and swooped down to take the tray of his afternoon tea to the parlor. He passed by the stairs and called up.

"Hey America! I pulled out some cupcakes for you in case you decide to give up this silly game! I even iced them for you!"

No response came. Britain shrugged and went on into the room of his destination. He gently placed the tray onto the small tea table and poured his first cup of tea. Mixing in some cream, he stirred his cup gently and sipped quietly. He set the saucer down and breathed contently.

"There's no medicine for the heart and soul quite like a good cup of tea." He said peacefully.

Britain was actually surprised at how peaceful the evening was for him. The quiet sound of his grandfather clock gently ticking made him feel immense serenity. He looked up above his fireplace to see a wonderful painting of Elizabeth the First. He smiled remembering that Golden Era of his life.

"Now there's a lady I wouldn't mind seeing back in this world. Maybe I'd feel the old pirate blood stir up in me again. Ah…I'll never forget the look on Spain's face when we humiliated that 'great armada' of his. Now _there's_ a painting I wouldn't mind having around!"

The pleasant evening went by slowly. Britain did get in some chapters of the book he wanted to read. In fact, he managed to finish the thing before ten o' clock which was impressive by his standards. By the time all the scones and biscuits were eaten and the tea was drunk, Britain was very tired. He went to wash off his dishes and place them back in their respective stands. He decided to leave the cupcakes out in case America still wanted them after he went to bed.

"I'm coming up America!" he shouted, "If you plan on keeping this up, you'd better hide until I'm asleep! I left the cupcakes out since you seemed so determined to hide from me! Good-night!"

Britain walked into his bedroom loosening his tie and kicking off his shoes. He undressed and sat himself in a nice, steaming hot bath for a quarter of an hour. All of his cares were melted completely away. He wasn't really concerned about having America in his house. The Yank' was always doing some silly nonsense one way or another, all in good fun of course. He might be a rambunctious child with a very bad sense of privacy, but he still respected other people's property enough to not touch anything too delicate or break things. And if he did, he was always quick to make up for it.

"But still," Britain murmured to himself, closing his eyes under his massive brows, "I really wish he wasn't so pig-headed all the bloody time. Honestly, I don't know where I went wrong with that boy."

Britain eased himself out of the tub and covered himself with a bath robe. He exited and went out to his old oaken dresser pulling out a navy blue night shirt and slipping on a pair of white boxers. He crawled under his covers and settled comfortably within his bed. The rain was coming down harder outside, but to Britain, it was nothing more than a melody he had grown used to over the span of his life. He sighed contently.

"I love the rain…it's so soothing, especially when it comes down like this."

His eyes slowly blinked closed as he drifted off into dreams of tea and his old worldwide empire.

* * *

America opened his eyes and grumbled.

"I hate the rain! It's so annoying! Especially when it comes down like this!"

For some reason, America found himself awoken and now he couldn't seem to fall back asleep. The rain was just too loud for him to sleep through. He sighed exasperated.

"Figures…nothing is every easy for the hero. I should really expect monkey-wretches in the works like this by now."

He then noticed that it was awfully warm, even for being under his jacket. He looked right next to him and stared with his big blue eyes at Italy who was curled up close to him. Soft, tiny 'Ve's' echoed from his throat as he slumbered on.

"Man, this guy sure can sleep through most anything can't he?" America muttered. He laid his head down on his paws and looked at the forests. He began thinking of his own home and his own forests. He started thinking of the pines up north and the fields of poppies in Yellowstone. The thought of the gentle stream that wound its way through the great big rocks of the Grand Canyon entered his mind. He recalled the crystal waters on the Atlantic in Florida and thought of how soft the beaches were in the Gulf. In his mind, came the great Rockies rising into the sky with their snow-capped tops. The starry skies that twinkled on those nights back when he was building the West into what it was. He almost could see Lady Liberty in the distance, her great hand raised high as a beacon for him.

"This isn't really like me." America pondered, "I can't remember the last time I just sat and thought about home. I guess I'm always running around doing as much as I can. I'm not really a 'sit-still-and-watch-the-world-roll-by' kind of guy, I don't think I'll ever be, but it's sorta' nice just to sit for a minute and think about it."

He started to wonder to himself how other countries might be. Yeah sure, he talked with them on a regular basis and such, but he wasn't that familiar with their culture and history that didn't concern him. He knew the basic stuff like how Britain and France hated each other and the European countries had a lot of art going around, but that was about it.

It really wasn't that surprising. America was after all, quite young in comparison to the other nations. Yeah he had grown up faster than others, but he was still just a child learning about the strange world around him. Heck, his own place was so massive that he had to spend most of his time just trying to learn about himself on his own. He always remembered how he had to go and figure things out all the time. He couldn't afford to be scared of the unknown, he just had to keep taking one step in front of the other and never stopped moving forward. Everyone was always amazed at how quickly he grew and how much he accomplished. Sure he was strong by nature, but his willpower was what really gave him strength in his life. Always moving forward and never giving up. That was after all his way, his American way.

The rain was finally starting to let up. America rose and slipped out of his fighter jacket. "Alright old sport!" he said to himself, "enough old man thinking."

He walked and felt a little awkward. "Like I said," he moaned looking at his paw and feeling his pointed ears, "This is not going to be easy to deal with."

He turned to Italy and shook him gruffly. Italy rolled over waiving his paws in the air feebly. "No Germany! Per favore Germany! Don't take away my pasta! I can't live without my pasta!"

"Hey!" America barked into Italy's ear going straight to his big city voice. Italy woke up and rolled back onto his stomach yawning widely as he rubbed his eyes with his paw.

"Ve~! Buongiorno Germany! I had a really strange dream! I dreamt that I went over to Britain's place and found a sack of wurst in his basement, except it wasn't a sack of wurst! But then America came out of nowhere and started chasing me, so I ran away, but he caught me. And then there was a lot of red smoke everywhere, and the next think I knew, we were cats! I was crying for you the whole time because I was scared of being so small in such a big scary place! Pretty crazy huh?"

Italy looked up at America. America gave his classic big grin and said quite cheerily, "Sup' man? Have a good snooze?"

Italy didn't move from under the jacket. He looked at America for a while as a series of soft, but desperate sounding 'ohh…'s left this little mouth. He looked around at the forest and started to get a scared look on his face. And then he looked down at himself. When he saw his two golden-yellow paws before him, he started trembling. America could see tears form at the ends of his eyes as he started to whimper in a high pitch.

"Nu-uh dude!" America interjected slamming a paw over Italy's mouth, "You've had tons of time to cry already, and I'm not sitting through another of your 'Save me Germany!' sessions. K'?"

Italy nodded slowly. He was still trembling but he managed to keep himself from breaking into tears. He got to his feet and slowly walked out of the burrow. He looked at his paws weakly. He then noticed a puddle not far off from all the rain and walked over to look into it. He saw the familiar curl sprouting from his head which comforted him somewhat. If he wasn't so traumatized, he would have been fawning over how cute his reflection looked, but the idea of being even feebler and small terrified him too much.

"I thought this was only a dream. Ve~! It has to be a dream!" Italy whimpered.

"Fraid' not bro." America sighed anxious for Italy to move away so he could get a look at himself in the pool, "I know, it's not easy for me either to deal with this. But we're here and we've got to figure out how to _not_ stay here."

"Ve? What do you mean?" Italy looked up, "Don't you think we'll just change back after a while?"

"Wouldn't bet my money on it." America said walking over to the pool next to Italy. "If things are the way they are, we'll have to assume the worst. That being this…effect isn't going to wear off." He looked at himself in the pool instantly recognizing his eyes and glasses that he had known for years. He also saw the scruff of dark fur on his neck and chuckled at how it really made him look like he was wearing his fighter jacket.

"So that's what I look like now."

"Huh? What's this?" Italy asked. America glanced back up and looked oddly at the calico cat.

"Hm? What's what?"

"This!" Italy said reaching out a paw towards America's face. America pulled his head back a little in surprise as he saw the yellow paw reaching towards him. But relaxed when he realized Italy was touching his spectacles.

"Oh these?" he said adjusting them with his paws, "Well you know what it is, it's my glasses that I wear all the time!"

"Ve~! And your still wearing them even though you're a cat?" Italy asked tilting his head to the side. "It's funny, you look different, but somehow I can still tell you're America when I look at you for a moment."

"I know right? Same with you! Weird how that works..."

The two just sat there looking over each other and trying to picture their human selves when looking at the nation cats. It wasn't as easy as it seemed. Finally America leapt to his feet and cleared his throat.

"Right! No more screwin' around! Time to get to business! If there's a will, there's a way! And by golly we will change back as sure as I'm the hero!"

"Si!" Italy nodded with a smile spreading on his face. He too got up and was starting to look more like his cheery self. Italy opened his mouth as light hearted chuckles that normally left him poured out. America was about to tell his current plan when his eye caught the sight of something below Italy.

"Yo dude," America said tilting his head down at an odd angle. "What's that around your leg?"

"Ve?" Italy questioned. He looked underneath him and saw what America was referring to. There was a small lump close to his back leg. A string came out of it and was wrapped around his back paw. Italy sat down like he would've in his normal human form and with his front paws, he began to fumble with the string around his foot. After a while of messing around, he finally got it loose and held up the object for the both of them to see.

"Ve!" Italy exclaimed, "It's the wurst sack that didn't have any wurst in it!"

"That thing? What was it doin' on your foot?"

"Uh…I don't know. It might've gotten tangled around my leg while we were dragging your vest last night."

"Well, that thing's gotten this hero in enough trouble! We should probably just toss it."

"Wait!" Italy cried out reaching into it with his right paw while holding it with the other. "There's something still in here!"

"Oh great!" America said nervously backing cautiously away, "Is it another gas bomb? I think I've had enough for today!"

"No, it's a little bit of paper!" Italy said pulling out a folded scrap of paper which had been handled a few times. With a little bit of trouble, Italy managed to open it up with his paws and see what was written on the inside. He leapt with excitement.

"Ve! Ve! Come quick! Take a look at this!"

America ran over and sat on his haunches next to Italy. He peered carefully at the paper through his glasses for a moment. As soon as he finished reviewing it, his expression exploded into a look of unimaginable surprise as he let out a great, prolonged gasp of discovery. His face remained plastered with this look for a while before he let it go, turned to Italy, and asked calmly, "What does it say?"

Italy looked at him curiously. "You….you really don't know what this says?"

America slid his look towards the paper and then back to Italy. "Uh….nooo…" he answered in a very slow and emphasized tone.

"But it's in Latin! You must know a little bit of it!"

"Dude," America squinted, "I'm a busy guy, I don't have time to be peering over old copies to learn a dead language."

"But Latin is what makes up your own language! Well, that and Germanium."

"Dude, I don't know about you, but the only language I speak is American."

Italy cocked his head. "Wait, I thought you spoke in English?"

America shrugged. "Meh, close enough."

"Well, listen to what it says." Italy cleared his through and started reading the paper

**EFFATA CARMINE ULLO REMEDIO**

**(Monitum: Non maledicta curare, vulnera mortalia, vel eructationibus)**

_FORMULA TO CURE ANY SPELL_

_(Warning: Does not cure curses, mortal wounds, or heartburn)_

America leapt up as soon as he heard this. "Seriously? Ah! Dude, this is awesome! We'll get the stuff, make ourselves a cure, and BAM! We'll be walkin' right back on two legs before dinner!"

"Ah…." Italy hesitated, "I don't really know about that."

"Why not?"

"It might take a little bit longer in order to find all the things it says we need."

"Really? What makes you say that?"

"Well…" Italy looked back down at the paper and started reading off the list that was present.

**I. Pomum mortis et vitae**

**II. Flos implevit desiderium**

**III. Avis pennas floribus venenatis lacus travexerint**

**IV. Scala draco imperatorium**

**V. Cauda capillos kitsune**

**VI. Pecia de indivulso Somnium**

**VII. Cinis vir anulum**

**VIII. Fructus soles**

**Sed et lac et oleum.**

_1. An apple of death and life_

_2. A flower of fulfilled desire_

_3. The feather of a bird that has swum over a lake of ice flowers_

_4. The scale of an imperial dragon_

_5. The hair from the tail of a kitsune_

_6. A piece of an unbroken dream_

_7. The ring from a man of ash_

_8. A fruit of sunshine_

_And also some oil and milk._

America looked at Italy trying to determine whether he was messing with him. But after seeing that Italy was perfectly serious (which in of itself takes skill). He flopped his head into a bow and let out a huff of air.

"Leave it to Iggy to make the ingredients for something like this impossible to get." He lifted his head and looked at Italy with angry eyes, "How the heck are we going to find any of this stuff! It's all baloney!"

Italy became flustered when he saw America start to get upset. He recoiled a little in fear.

"I-I don't know! There's got to be a solution! Maybe it's kind of a riddle that we need to solve! Don't blame me! I didn't choose the ingredients! Plus I bruise like a summer peach so don't hit me!" Italy, still flustered, ducked his head under his fore-paws pressing his ears against his forehead while doing so. America pulled back not wanting to really freak out the sissy little nation.

"Well fine, it's the best lead we have so I guess we'll go for it." He picked up the little purple sack and slipped the loop around his neck. "We'd better get moving, let's just focus on finding the first item for now. A crappy riddle like this can't stop the hero from reaching his goal!"

"Ve! I agree! The sooner we find all these things, the sooner I can go back to Germany!"

Italy folded up the list just before America swiped it from his paws and stuffed it back into the little pouch hanging around his neck. The two settled on a direction (and by 'the two settled', I mean America picked the first path that hit his heroic fancy) and began walking off.

Suddenly, Italy remembered America's fighter jacket which was still stuffed in the hole they had slept in.

"Ve! Wait, what about your vest?" Italy shook America.

"Hm? My vest?" he looked back to see what Italy was referring to, "Oh that, it's fine! We don't need to be lugging that thing around anyway. It'll be safe there til' we change back and I can come to pick it up."

"Ve~! Okey-dokey!" Italy smiled.

America led the way as Italy trailed timidly behind, still somewhat nervous of being around such a powerful Allied nation such as America.

…even if he was only a cat.


	4. America the Culprit

**I DO NOT own Hetalia or any of its characters**

**...nor do I claim to own the history of the world :3**

* * *

Britain woke very calmly as he stretched like a cat in his comfortable bed. He couldn't remember having such a peaceful night like yesterday for a long time. Slowly, he slid himself out of bed and slipped into his brown house slippers. He went the bathroom to wash his face and shave. However, as he was drying off the cream from his face, he heard what sounded like a car door slam.

"Ah, so the Yankee decided to come out after all. High time I should say!" Britain muttered. He left the bathroom wiping his face dry with a towel as he looked outside his bedroom window. But what he saw wasn't America getting in his car as he had expected. Instead, another car was parked outside next to his. It was a 1973 Black 'Squareback' Volkswagen parked to perfection next to his Bristol.

He knew he had seen that car before, but he was having trouble placing his finger on it. But before he could really think about it, he heard firm knocking on his front door. He pulled his robe from his bathroom rack and slipped it on as he tramped down the stars. He tied the front into a firm knot before opening the door. He was anticipating seeing America, but his guess turned out to be very wrong as he saw the green uniform before him.

"Guten Morgen." He heard a gruff voice say.

"Same to you," Britain responded, "…Germany."

Germany removed his militaristic cap from his head and looked at Britain sternly. Britain returned his gaze with equal intensity. For a few moments, sparks flew mutely in the room as the two gazes slashed at each other in silence. Finally Germany adjusted his collar and tucked his cap under his arm.

"May I come in for moment?" he asked.

"Please…" Britain motioned opening the door for his unexpected guest, feeling a little like Bilbo in that moment.

"Danke." Germany nodded and stomped his boots outside before walking into the English home. As soon as he came into the foyer, Britain closed the door and looked outside to see if anyone was with him. But it appeared as though the Germanic nation was alone.

Germany looked around for a moment before turning to Britain. "I assume that America is with you? I couldn't help but notice his car outside."

"I think so." Britain responded.

"What do you mean, 'think so'?"

"I haven't seen the wanker at all. His car was here when I came back from a meeting with my brothers yesterday and I assumed he was somewhere in the house. I didn't bother to look for the fool figuring he'd pop his ugly head out sooner or later. I have to say, in terms of staying out of sight, this is an all-time new record for him."

Germany walked slowly down the hall and noticed the tray of cupcakes still sitting out on the table in the parlor. He frowned the way only a German can when dissatisfied.

"I know that you British folk like to have your tea," he said turning his head to look at Britain. "But isn't it a little early to be serving those kinds of pastries yet?"

"Hm?" Britain grunted turning his attention into the parlor. He was surprised and a little insulted when he saw the tray of cupcakes still sitting untouched on the table. "That damn wanker!" he said angrily marching over the tray and taking it to the kitchen, "He didn't even touch a single one! Bloody narcissistic clod!"

Germany followed him to the entrance and watched as he cleaned up the leftover dish. Scrubbing like mad, he furrowed his caterpillar eyes in angst.

"Here I go to the trouble to make him something fairly decent after he pokes his nose completely uninvited into my home, and he dares to insult me by not even bothering to eat a single one! Who does he think he is? Whatever your older brother taught him, it hasn't improved his manners in the least bit! In fact I think Prussia's influence…."

Britain stopped, turned around staring skeptically at his guest and seated both of his fists on his hips. "Come to think of it, you haven't exactly told me why you're here. What, did you come to settle some quarrel with America?"

"Nein." Germany answered stiffly, relieved to finally get to the point of his visit. "I am here for Italy."

"Italy? What makes you think you'll find him here?"

Germany reached into his pocket and pulled out a little black device which beeped at a regular interval. "I had a tracking device placed on Italy's belt so I could find him whenever he tries to slip away from his training. He knows nothing about it, so I'm confident he's near this spot."

"Why on earth would you think that?"

"Because," Germany explained holding the device in front of Britain. "The signal I'm getting stops just past your home." Britain carefully examined it. It seemed like a legit device and the signal was definitely coming from behind the house. He handed it back to Germany and sighed.

"Fine, I'll comply. If you want to search my property, go right ahead. It's not like I want him at my place anyway."

"Very well," Germany acknowledged, heading outside. "This should only take a few minutes at most." With that, he left the house and made his way through the woods. Britain observed him from behind the windows of his home as he watched the German walk deeper into the woods. He shook his head and returned to the kitchen to finish cleaning up before going upstairs to get dressed.

Germany marched through the woods casually following the direction of the tracking monitor. He grew more and more irritable as he went deeper into the forest. He ground his teeth in frustration as he pushed the branched out of his face.

"Scheiße! I swear Italy, when I get my hands on you, you'll wish you had never made yourself part of the Axis!"

Eventually, the device lead him to a wide open field. He continued walking until he came right over the spot where the tracking device should have been. Germany looked around for Italy, but saw no sign of him. He looked back down at his tracker and smacked it with his palm a couple times before growling in frustration.

"Damn! This cheap scrap of worthless metal! It was supposed to be a high grade device!"

Frustrated, he threw the tracker like a grenade in anger and pulled back placing his hands on his hips. He sighed and looked around a couple times half-hoping to see Italy pop up from the bushes somewhere.

"Cowardly bastard," He muttered, "Gave me the slip again! And I thought for sure I had him this time."

Germany was about to head back to Britain's house when he noticed something on his boot. He kicked it off, but it wasn't something that sat on top of it, but rather it was coming up out of ground. Germany furrowed his brow and knelt down to the ground to get a better look. Grasping it in his gloved hand he could tell it was some kind of cloth.

"What the hell?" he muttered. He started pulling on the material ceaselessly, slowly dragging it out of the soil. When it no longer would budge, he started digging away the dirt. The ground was still soft from the rain and it was pretty easy to get it out. Germany fell back as he gave a final tug and pulled it out of the earth. He stood and brushed himself off before looking at what he uncovered. He held it up by the shoulder pads and gained a look of further confusion on his face.

"Is this?...No,…it can't…but it certainly looks like…" Germany started fumbling around the inside of the blue vest and searched the inside pockets. He pulled out the white flag material that Italy always carried with him at all times in case of 'emergency surrenders'.

"It is!" Germany exclaimed, "This is Italy's jacket! But what's it doing half buried in the ground?"

However, his questions would have to wait, for he noticed that something else was buried along with Italy's vest. He started digging and one by one uncovered the different articles of Italy's clothing.

"Here's his boots, and his trousers! And the belt I was tracking him with! And these are his…boxers?!"

Germany was a little apprehensive about discovering his ally's clothes in the middle of a place like this. It was way out in the middle of nowhere and he would have never found it if not for his tracking device. But why would Italy's uniform have been a foot underground? It was almost as if someone had buried them…

Germany's expression grew grave and serious. Could it be…something happened to Italy? He remembered the strange feeling in his gut that he got the night before. It felt as though something was seriously wrong and Italy was calling for him. Was Italy in trouble for real this time? But who would've done it? Britain? No, no, he seemed as if he had no idea about Italy's absence. Besides, he had been at a meeting yesterday and there was evidence to back it up. Germany was good at reading lies in people's faces and he knew that Britain had been telling him the truth. So who could have…?

The thought was set in stone almost as quickly as it entered his mind. It made sense too. Britain hadn't seen him nor was he present when Germany came along. His car was parked in Britain's drive so there was no mistake at all that he was present when Italy was here.

"Damn!" Germany shouted gathering up his friend's clothing and making his way back through the woods.

Britain had just finished adjusting his green tie and tucked it into his brown suit when the banging on the door came again. He quickly travelled down the steps and opened the door to find a very irritable German awaiting him.

"Did Italy give you much trouble?" Britain asked, "Tell him that the next time he wants to run from your training, he doesn't have to come all the way to my…"

"I don't know if you're involved in this," Germany interjected menacingly, "But I swear, if I find you are a part of it, there will be hell to pay."

"Wh-? What are you going on about?" Britain sputtered at the German's bluntness.

He raised Italy's clothes up for Britain to see. He had folded them all up into a neat little stack, but Britain could still tell whose they were. He stared at them confused.

"Isn't that Italy's uniform?"

"I don't like it when my allies are so cowardly attacked. Especially one as harmless as Italy." He pulled the clothing back and fixed his cap back on his head, giving Britain one last glare. "And tell that American scum you call a friend to watch his back!"

Germany turned and walked to his car driving off in a mad hurry. Britain just stood in his doorway for a while and tried to make sense of what Germany had just said to him.

"What the devil was that all about? And where is America anyway?" he wondered.

He decided to give America a little visit at his home. He wrote a little note on the door to informing America, if he did wander by, about his car keys and to call him if he needed anything. He knew that Germany was going to take a ferry from his country, so there was no fear of them meeting up at the airport. Britain wasn't quite prepared to bump into Germany after that little confrontation.

"America must've done something to really upset Germany, I can't imagine what though. He doesn't get involved with the Axis that much." Britain sighed feeling that he was going to have to talk to America about etiquette, not that he expected him to listen, but he wasn't just going to let it slide.

* * *

Meanwhile, Italy and America had managed to find the end of the huge wood and found a road stretching before them. America looked around and tried to figure out what to do next. Italy lay down tucking his little paws under him while glancing down the road.

"Ve~! Finally! I thought that forest would never end!" he said cheerily.

"I know right?" America let out a relieved whistle. "Now that we've found some mark of civilization, which way should we go?"

"Look! There's someone coming!"

America and Italy stepped back a little to avoid getting hit as a black car sped past them. As soon as it had gone by Italy ran out to the middle of the road and started jumping up and down on his hind legs waiving his paws in the air.

"Ve! That was Germany's car! Germany! Germany! I'm over here Germany! Come back!"

"Dude, Watch out!"

America dove at Italy and slammed into him as they both rolled off into the bushes on the other side of the road just before a van whizzed by, missing them by a hair. America got up on his feet and shook his head spitting out a clump of weeds that got shoved in his mouth.

"Boy, that was close! It's a good thing a hero like me has such lightning reflexes!"

Italy rolled from his back to his stomach. "You ok man?" America asked him.

"Ve! We have to go after the car! Germany's in there! I've got to get to Germany!"

"Hey, come on! What's the deal with you and him anyway? We've got other stuff to worry about now, we don't need to be chasing some billboard-backed Kraut!"

"I must get to Germany! Once I'm with him, I'll be safe! I need to get to Germany!" Italy started bawling and America panicked at the prospect of dealing with a whiny Italy.

"Ok! Ok! Ok! We'll go get Germany…somehow. Just don't start crying!"

A few minutes later, Italy was smiling contently next to America.

"This is fantastico! Soon I'll be with Germany again!" he then looked at America worriedly and frowned. "But I've been meaning to ask…Why are we up in a tree?"

"Relax man!" America reassured waiving his paw at Italy, "It'll become clear in a bit!"

"Also," Italy commented looking down, "I don't exactly think it's very safe to be on a branch that's over the road like this."

"That's….part of the tactic!" America laughed nervously, "Just stay where you are."

"And, this branch is a bit flimsy. I'm having a little trouble staying on."

"Yeah…I wouldn't worry about that too much." America muttered out the side of his mouth.

"Oh look! A German truck! I wonder what it's delivering? Maybe pasta!"

"Doubt it, but I will tell you what it is going to deliver."

"What?" Italy asked completely oblivious.

"Us!"

"Oh! Okay….wait what?"

America slammed his foot on the branch they were on causing Italy to lose his balance and fall as he jumped after him. Italy started crying Niagara Falls as he and America both landed on the tarp that covered the trucks wares. America started laughing loudly as only he could.

"Hahahaha! That was so totally awesome!" He got on his feet and worked his way over to Italy who lay curled up where he landed. He was spazzing and waiving his paws in the air screaming endlessly, "Germany! Germany! Germany!"

They were in luck, the truck they had jumped into was heading over to the docks where Germany was. It even was going onto the same ferry as him. America grinned at his dumb luck.

"See? I told you a hero like me could get us there! Now all we have to do is look for Germany!"

They both leapt out of the truck. America landed perfectly on his feet as Italy had trouble crawling out and landed flat on his face. America looked at him flatly.

"So much for cats always landing on their feet."

"Ve! I'm okay! Let's find Germany!"

They began looking around, but it was clear that a cat can only go so far. The cargo hold had been shut off from the upper deck where the passengers were and so finding Germany wasn't possible for them. Italy bowed his head in disappointment.

"Oh well, I guess we can just find his car and wait until the ship comes to port!"

The two looked through the numerous cars in the hold until Italy ran straight to the one that he knew belonged to his friend. Germany had left the front windows down, so the two of them managed to crawl inside and get comfortable on the leather interior. They slept quietly in their respective seats. Italy felt a lot better just being in Germany's car. The smell and feel of it made him forget his troubles.

The next day, they woke up to hear the sound of the female announcer.

_Achtung Passagiere: Das Schiff wird in Hamburg Port kommen in etwa dreißig Minuten. Wenn Sie Ihre Immobilie in den Frachtraum der Fähre gespeichert haben, achten Sie darauf, die erforderlichen Formulare und Ihre Tickets zum Abruf bereit zu haben. Wenn Sie ein Formular benötigen, sprechen Sie bitte mit einer der Schiffs-Arbeiter für Informationen. Danke für das Reisen mit uns. Haben Sie einen schönen Tag._

The message was then repeated in English

_Attention passengers: The ship will be coming into Hamburg port in approximately thirty minutes. If you have property being stored in the cargo of the ferry, be sure to have the necessary forms and your tickets ready for retrieval. If you require a form, please talk to one of the ship's workers for information. Thank you for traveling with us. Have a nice day._

"Wait," America perked his head, "Did she say we're coming into…Hamburger port? Where is that? And why don't I know anything about it? It sounds amazing!"

America violently hit Italy on the head. Italy started whimpering as he woke up. "Ve!" He cried, "What did you do that for?"

"Because you wouldn't have woken up any other way. Come on! We're going to dock soon! The doors to the upper decks must be opened by now!"

The two cats leapt out of the cat and ran over to one of the doors. There were a lot of people going through and the door was left wide open for everyone. America ran through the legs of the people with Italy tailing him close behind.

"Whoah!" one of the workers. "Who let these cats out?"

"Don't look at me," another worker said. "I thought we didn't have live cargo!

"We don't." a third chimed in flipping through a clipboard in his hand. "None of the passengers had any animals with them. Did you see how dirty they were? They're probably strays that slipped on while we were loading."

"So what should we do?" the first one asked.

"Let them go until we unload the ferry. We'll have plenty of time to inspect the ship once the work is done. Heck, I'll bet they'll run off this ship the first chance they get."

The other workers agreed to the logic of this statement and returned to their duties.

Italy and America walked on the top deck receiving some odd looks from the passengers. Italy didn't like being around so many tall people (of course tall at that point was a relative word considering the size he was at now). He slid against the nearest wall and shivered as he looked at everyone around him.

"Dude? What's the dealio? Come on, we have to find Germany!"

"No way!' Italy said shaking his head, his curl flying all over the place. "It's way too scary! All these people are so big and mean looking!"

America sighed and turned, "Whatever man, if you won't look, I will. You can just stay here."

"No!" Italy said jumping on America and sending them tumbling into the ship's railing. "Being alone is even worse! I'll go with you! I just don't want be alone!"

"Geez, you sure don't have much of a concrete resolve do you?"

The two of them wandered the deck looking for the Axis Power country. Unfortunately, the ship had docked and Germany had made his way down to the cargo hold to retrieve his car. He had just disappeared down the stairs when America and Italy came around the corner. The had been looking for some time, but still no sign of Germany.

"Germany! Germany where are you?" Italy called in a sing-song Italian voice, "Germany it's me, Italy! Where are you Germany?"

"Guess we might want to check the staterooms or sumthin'" America suggested. But he suddenly caught sight of Germany down at the docks. He was talking to a ship-man and filling out the necessary paperwork for his car.

"Yo! Italy! Germany's down by the docks! And it looks like he's getting' ready to leave!"

"Ve! Oh no! We have to catch him before he goes away!"

The two countries scrambled down into the cargo hold and out the gaping opening which lead to the docks. Italy's speed had tripled after hearing Germany's location and America could only chase after him as fast as he could.

"Two legs or four legs," America huffed, "Doesn't matter much for that guy, he sure can run!"

Italy skidded to a halt on the concrete docks and turned his head desperately looking for his friend. He saw Germany receiving his keys from the man and headed to his car.

"Germany!" Italy cried rocketing to the other nation. He leapt and grabbed right onto Germany's leg with all four paws rubbing his face affectionately against it. Germany looked down in shock at the feline hugging his leg.

"What the hell?" he exclaimed trying to shake Italy off. But Italy had a death grip on that leg.

"Ve! Germany! I'm really glad I found you! I was so scared because I was a cat, but now that I'm with you again, I know everything's going to be ok! Germany! Germany!"

Germany tried shaking Italy off a few more times before reaching down and grabbing him by the scruff.

"Ve~?" Italy muttered in surprise as he felt a hand grip on his neck. It didn't really hurt too badly, but it sort of reminded him of being held up by the back of his collar as a human. Germany raised him up so that they were at eye level. Italy smiled at him as Germany just stared with those hard blue eyes.

"He he!" Italy laughed, "You look a little confused Germany! It's ok, you should have seen me when I first realized I was a cat!"

But Germany acted as if he hadn't heard Italy's previous statement at all and just stared at him. "What's with you? Strange little thing."

Italy's smile vanished when he heard this. "Wh-what? Germany it's me! It's your best friend Italy! We made an alliance together! I love pasta, you love potatoes! Germany! Germany!"

Italy wriggled within Germany's grasp and waived his paws pleadingly towards his friend. Germany sighed and set the cat down on the ground a ways off and petted him gently.

"Now go back to where you belong. I wouldn't advise going up to strange people like that anymore." He turned and headed back to his car. Italy looked at him desperately and felt himself start to cry as he watched Germany walk away. He thrust himself back onto Germany's leg and held on more firmly than before.

"No! Germany! Germany don't go! You can't leave me here! It's scary and I'm so little and I don't want to be alone! You've got to take me with you Germany! Isn't that what allies do? Germany! Germany!"

"Hey come on! Get off!" Germany demanded prying Italy from his boot. "You can't come with me! So go away!"

"Don't say that Germany! Please! You wouldn't send your best friend away would you? Germany!"

Germany tried to encourage Italy to leave, but Italy just ended up gravitating towards him once more. Germany was starting to get irritated with the whole matter.

"Get away from me! Damn cat! What's your problem?"

"The problem is I don't want to be alone!" Italy cried.

"Hey!" America called from afar finally making it to the scene, "Germany what's the matter with you! That dude's your ally!"

Germany ripped Italy from his leg, "I've had enough! I don't have time for this! If you keep persisting to follow me like this, I will have to get rough!"

Germany tossed Italy towards America who caught him and helped him up. Italy lifted his head to see Germany get into his car and drive off.

"Wh….wh…." Italy whined.

"Um…hey Italy," America said, "I don't think its gonna do us much good trying to talk to people for help."

Italy turned to look at America

"They don't seem to understand us."


	5. Pointing Fingers

**I DO NOT own Hetalia or any of its characters.**

**...nor do I claim to own the history of the world :3**

* * *

America and Italy sat on the edge of the middle of Lombardsbrücke Bridge looking out at the city. The cars whizzed on the other side of the bridge as a metro train passed by right behind them. Italy was horribly depressed. He hadn't counted on losing his ability to communicate with the other nations. America was still trying to figure out how that whole thing worked. Maybe it was something in that red chemical gas that allowed only the affected victims to communicate (he wasn't even considering anything outside the realm of science as an explanation, let alone magic). Whatever the case, he had to admit, it must have been an intricate formula to create such a perfected effect.

"Ve~, I can't believe Germany just threw me aside like that! Even if he couldn't understand what I was saying, I thought for sure he'd recognize me!"

"Well, you did kinda' provoke him to do it," America pointed out. "I mean, some freaky cat comes up out of nowhere and won't let go of your leg, I'd probably do the same thing. Know what I mean?"

"...Si... but still," Italy sighed. "I thought for sure Germany could help me. He would probably be better at solving this riddle either of us." He said looking to the purple pouch still around America's neck.

"I hear ya' bro. But it looks like we're gonna have to just figure it out for ourselves somehow. Even if we are enemies." Suddenly, his eyes brightened with an idea. He smiled so widely, his eyes were squeezed shut.

"I know! Let's make an alliance!"

Italy looked at him "Ve? An alliance?"

"Yeah man! We'll make a pact right here, together as cats! We'll work as a team to get all the stuff on this list in order to get back to our people and fellow nations! There will be no rest, no retreat, no giving up until we're back to being the countries we were born as!"

Italy brightened at this idea, "Ve! I like the sound of that! It'll be nicer to travel with an ally than a scary enemy!"

"Kay'!" America declared, "It's settled then! On this day...!" he paused then whispered to Italy "What day is it today?"

"Umm...September twenty-third I thin-"

"On September 23rd in Hamburg, Germany, aaaat..."America waivered as his eyes searched around the town. He caught sight of a clock in the distance. "...10:45 A.M.! The nations of America and Italy both consented to an alliance in order to collect the materials needed to cure their affliction in order to return to their duties for their respective peoples and allied nations!"

"Yeah! What you said!" Italy cheered.

"Let's shake hands!...Uh...paws..." America hesitated trying to decide which one. Finally he just shook his head and muttered, "Let's just shake on it."

"Ve~!" Italy agreed. They both shook paws as best they could.

"Right! Now all we need is a super-cool name for our said treaty!"

Italy thought for a moment and then perked, "Oh! I know! How about the 'Neko-Alliance'?"

"Huh? Why that name?" America asked.

"We'll," explained Italy, "I remember when Germany, Japan and I first made the Axis Alliance. Japan suggested the name 'Axis' because of its mysterious, underlying meaning! So I thought it would be cool to create something similar! See, neko means cat in Japanese, and we made this alliance as...well...cats!"

"Hmm...I get ya' man," America nodded. "But why in that language? I mean, neither of us are Japanese so...what's the deal with that?"

"Oh...well, uh," Italy hesitated drawing a little circle on the ground with his paw while looking away from America. "I kind of felt that 'Cat-alliance' or 'Gatto-alliance' didn't flow quite as well."

America thought about this for a minute. "Yeah, I can see that. Ok! The Neko-Alliance it is!"

America then straightened himself and put on a serious face. "Right! First order of business! We will find the first required object from this list! No distractions! No breaks! No...!"

Suddenly, a deep and thunderous noise sounding like some kind of horrible, suffering monster wafted through the air. America and Italy paused staring at each other before America sat down (human style) and clutched his stomach with his paws. His ears flattened against his head as his face became dread filled.

"Oh Geez!...I don't remember being this hungry since way back in 1938!" his stomach let out another loud moan causing America to whimper while falling down onto his underside, still clutching his belly within his paws. "Man, it feels like my stomach's turning inside out trying to feed itself! I gotta get food now! If I don't, I might shrivel up into nothing but a pelt hat for Davy Crocket to wear!"

"Well, I'm all for that idea!" Italy beamed. "We should be able to find some good stuff around here! Germany and his people tend to make nice dishes!"

"That's great to hear dude!" America said, forcing a smile onto his hungry face. "I could eat just about anything right now! Just as long as I can get it soon!"

America managed to move himself after Italy who followed his keen Italian nose. He eventually led them to a bakery where hot bread was seated in the window along with cakes, pastries, sandwiches, and other fresh grain products. Both countries' mouths watered when they saw the feast inside, rivers practically flowing from their lips

"Aw man, Germany's people got some good food, I'll give him that! Boy, I can't decide what I should go for first! It all looks so good! Geez, I'm goin' crazy just thinkin' about it!"

"Well, let's go in and get something then!" Italy giggled, just as happy to eat as America was.

They both walked into the entrance and for a moment, they thought they had walked into the gates of heaven. Italy was entranced by the sight and smell of all the fresh bread (although he wished the scent of garlic and olive oil was mixed in with it) as America was elated to finally discover food that was literally the size of his body. And for about ten whole seconds, the two were enclosed in a moment of incredible bliss.

...Right before a huge broom smacked them in the face and sent them both tumbling out of the store and almost into the road. Italy shook his head clear as he saw an enormous and muscular German with a broom the size of the Leaning Tower of Pisa staring menacingly at him. Italy was pretty sure that he lost a year of his life just from the terrifying look he received.

"Nein!" the storekeeper hissed. "Away from my shop you filthy vermin! You hear me? I said get out!"

No need to be told twice for Italy. He leapt to his feet and ran to the nearest alleyway and hid behind an enormous dumpster, half afraid the man would come after him. He sat there shaking with his paws over his eyes as his curl trembled. He almost leapt out of his skin when he heard the sound of steps coming towards him.

"Oh no! He's coming!" he rose on his hind legs and backed away until he felt his spine hit the wall. He slid helplessly to the ground and tucked in his quaking forepaws close to his body. "Ve! Stay away!" he shouted, completely disregarding the fact that people couldn't understand him anymore. The steps came closer. Italy picked up a little stick and some white cloth lying close by.

"I'm warning you!" he cried as tears formed at the sides of his squinty eyes. The being came closer.

"I have a white flag and I'm not afraid to use it!" He said displaying his little banner frantically between his paws as the entity came around the dumpster.

For a while, Italy just stayed in his usual freaked-out, sobbing state as he waived his white flag back and forth faster than the eye could follow. However, he stopped everything as soon as he realized that it was only America who had come around the corner looking a tad peeved and terribly battered. Italy lowered his flag and jumped a few times happily.

"Ve! It's only you! I thought you were that big scary German!"

"Nope," America said flatly peering at Italy with a slightly twitchy eye. "He stayed at the store…along with myself."

"Oh, that's good to know!" Italy grinned, "I ran away as fast as I could!"

America's ears flattened against his head as his glare narrowed further until his eyes couldn't even be seen behind his glasses. "I noticed, I wasn't looking. What the hell?!"

Italy waved a paw towards America playfully, "Well I couldn't just stay and get beaten up by that terrifying person! I might have gotten mortally wounded or died! Then I would never be able to eat pasta again!"

America sighed loudly, "Did you at least try thinking of where to find the first ingredient while you were hiding here?"

"Ve? Oh yeah! Well it might be...um….uh, eh he he….what was the first ingredient again?" Italy asked awkwardly rubbing the back of his head with one of his paws. America drooped his head and let out yet another sigh.

"Ugh…" he groaned, "Forget it! I'm hungry and need to eat! Can't be the hero if I don't have my strength!"

Italy's nose twitched as he detected the odor of something warm and pleasant, a stark contrast to the weather and people around him. He poked his head from the dumpster and saw America walk over to a fresh, fat steaming bread roll that was as long as America. America sat on the ground (once again in a human-like fashion), lifted one end of the meal towards his face, and smacked his heavily salivating mouth.

"Ve~!" Italy radiated with glee as he bounced up to the other end of the roll. He felt his cheeks flush and his curl spring a little as it always did when being close by to good food. "Where did this come from?" he asked.

"I stuck around the shop and kept trying get in," America explained. "But that jerk kept attempting, and sometimes succeeding, in hitting me with his broom. Eventually he started resorting to throwing things until he threw this roll at me. Seeing as he so generously offered it to me, and getting the distinct impression I wasn't exactly welcome, I took it and ran. "

"Mmm!" Italy hummed, "It smells deliciouso! I can't wait to eat!"

"Wha-, Hey!" America snatched the roll up, hugging it in both arms and holding it away from the round head that was prying at his breakfast. Italy looked up with the face of a child whose candy had just been jerked from their hand.

"Whoah! Whoah! Whoah!" he boomed, "Who said you could have any? I got beaten and battered like cookie dough for this while you just ran off to save your own yellow butt! I'll be darned if I'm sharin' this with a little whiny freeloader!"

Italy started to cry, but kept himself from whining knowing how much the other country hated it. America took a big bite out of the bread and chewed it lovingly as Italy could only curl up and watch. He could practically taste the wonderful looking bread in his mouth as he squeezed it shut trying to keep his strained whimpers in. Suddenly, a big, extended grumble came from Italy's stomach which was loud enough for the people passing by to notice. Italy bowed his head and ears as he let out a sweat and couple embarrassed chuckles. His stomach repeated the noise again only causing Italy to feel hungrier and more awkward.

America looked towards his cat friend as he finally swallowed his first mouthful. He groaned, letting out a white puff of air from his exasperated mouth.

"Fine…!" He relented, "I'll share with you! After all, what kind of hero would I be if I didn't share?" He lay the roll down on the ground to assess and divide it between them. "You can have half….a third….fourth, you can have a fourth of my roll ok, but that's it!"

Italy leapt to his feet and hopped over to America who tore off a section of the bread and gave it to Italy. Italy was so happy that he would have burst into song if he wasn't so hungry. The two of them sat of the ground (again, like people) and began to eat their piping hot brunch that sat comfortably between each of their little paws. Italy may have only received a fourth of the roll, but the bread loaf was pretty big, so Italy still got a fairly large amount. America, being America, scarfed his food down as quickly as a cat could so that by the time Italy had finished his piece, America was already licking the leftover crumbs from his paws.

"Ve!" Italy peeped as he rolled on his back and wriggled in delight, "That was magnifico! I feel as warm as a spring pollo!"

"Well good!" America said getting to his feet and letting out a full-bellied breath. "Because if you ask me, it's high time we got ourselves cleaned up! And I'm pretty sure the townsfolk here aren't exactly going to offer us a hot shower!"

Italy looked over himself and scratched his cheek with one paw uneasily. "Eh heh heh. Si, you do have a point there. We do look rather dirty don't we?"

The two of them wandered through the city looking for somewhere to wash off. True, they walked along a river, but they weren't that desperate to get clean just yet. Sure there was a fountain in the water, but they were sure that they could find one much more easily accessible further in town. As a matter of fact, they found one almost instantly after going down one of the main streets. America removed the purple pouch around his neck as he prepared to get in. It was perfect, the water was not only ridiculously clear and shallow, but it also had been cleaned not long ago and had fresh cleansing formula placed in it which was almost as good as soap.

Neither Italy nor America felt keen on getting in the chilly water, but nevertheless, they braved their way in with clenched teeth and bathed themselves. They tried their best to ignore the various stares they got from the locals as they watched these two cats in the fountain. When the two had enough, they crawled out and sat at the fountain's edge, wet, cold, and sorely regretting their choice.

"Ve-v-ve-v-v-ve!" Italy shivered as his curl sprung into place once he got out of the water. "I'm n-n-never do-doing that ag-g-g-g-gain! V-v-ve!"

"I-I-I'm with-h-h you all th-the-th-the way br-b-b-br-bro!" America chattered as the water flowed out of his flattened fur. Unfortunately, he sneezed violently thrice which only sent him back into the water knocking off his glasses in the process. Italy got splashed by America's fall and shivered all the more in the chilly, late-autumn breeze.

America fumbled around in the water until he found his spectacles. Placing them back on his face, he once again crawled out and sat next to Italy, both of them shaking almost as much as the deadening leaves in the trees.

"I ff-fr-fr-ff-fricken' h-h-hate the c-c-cold!" America swore. He sneezed again, careful this time to not let himself be thrown back into the fountain. Italy lay down and tucked in his feet hoping that he might feel a little warmer if he did.

"V-v-ve…" his teeth chattered together, "I-I-I underst-stand now why c-c-c-a-cats hate wa-water s-s-so mu-much. It feels s-s-so mi-miserab-b-ble afterwo-wo-words-s-s."

They may have been nice and clean, but the two were far too soaked and chilly for anyone to expect them to move out. They just planted themselves there and waited to dry off as the water continued to slowly drip off and the wind began picking up as well.

* * *

"But that can't be! Surely he must be back by now!"

A particular American ambassador shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "My apologies Mr. Britain, but Mr. America hasn't come back yet. Last I heard he was going over to your place for a visit."

"Well his car was and is still presently at my house, but I haven't seen hide or hair of the bloke at all! I even confiscated his keys in hopes he would show himself!"

"Well, this is problematic." The ambassador muttered. "I'll inform the other ambassadors of this at once in addition to the congress and the C.I.A. We should be able to manage fine without him here, but we don't want to prolong this sort of absence longer than we have to."

"Right," Britain acknowledged. "I'll inform those at my end about his disappearance as well. We'll keep a lookout for anything suspicious."

"Thank you very much Mr. Britain." The ambassador said as he firmly shook hands with the nation. "We appreciate your help."

"Of course." Britain nodded. He appreciated this man's company and demeanor. After all, being the ambassador to the U.K., he saw him quite a bit him on a regular basis. A faint buzzing noise broke the conversation. The ambassador reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone.

"Mind if I take this?" he asked Britain.

"Oh, no! No! Go right ahead!"

The ambassador walked a few paces away from Britain as he answered the call.

"Hello?...Speaking….Oh Emerson, how are you? What's the news?...huh?...He-hey slow down! You're going way too fast for me to follow!….Okay, now say it again…what?...What?!...please tell me you're screwing with me…aw dammit….Okay, listen. I'll inform everyone about this on this end, you just do your best to keep him pacified until we sort things out here."

The ambassador clicked the red END button on the number pad and rubbed his head worriedly. He turned back to Britain.

"That was our ambassador in Berlin. He just finished telling me that Mr. Germany himself came to his desk and demanded to see Mr. America as soon as possible. He's placing charges stating that we have Mr. Italy hostage in our possession.

Britain stood completely stunned at this information for a moment. It took a long time to sink into his mind before the gravity of it all fell on him all at once. He placed a hand to his temple as he massaged his great eyebrows with his palm.

"Damn bloody wanker."


	6. Getting the System

**I DO NOT own Hetalia or any of its characters.**

**...nor do I claim to own the history of the world :3**

* * *

Italy shifted until he sat directly by the ventilation system that poured hot, warm air all over him. His ears flopped forward over the front of his face as the fur bristled. He rubbed his face with a paw and tucked it under his chest in comfort.

"Ve~," he said merrily, "When you're a cat, being all cold and wet might be miserable, but when you're warm and dry, its paradiso!"

Italy and America were currently on a train heading to Heilbronn, Germany. America had suggested they go there since it had a really large apple orchard.

"I mean, like, what better place to look for an apple than an apple orchard right? We'll totally find one that's good enough to do the job!"

Italy agreed to the idea since he himself was out of ideas where to look. So at the first chance they got, they headed to the local train station and waited for a train that was going nonstop from Hamburg to Heilbronn. The found one on the monitor, but had to wait for an hour before it came in. When it did, they snuck on with the luggage and worked their way into the passenger cart. They found one room that was unoccupied and quickly made themselves comfortable under the seats (they didn't want to be in danger of being caught by anyone, especially the workers). There were some blankets that had been stored underneath in addition to a case of emergency materials. America slept on one side of the case while Italy was curled up on the other.

"Ve…I wonder why America was so keen on keeping this box between us?" Italy wondered. He didn't acknowledge the fact that almost every time they slept he would try and snuggle next to America which, needless to say, made the other nation feel a little awkward. Much like he would do with Germany on a regular basis.

"These blankets are soft, but they don't make very good pillows." He shifted trying to get comfortable, but somehow resting his head on his paws just didn't do the trick. He moved around trying to get his head relaxed. He sighed and then spotted something pale out of the corner of his eye. A pale, white object lay against the wall under the seat behind the emergency box.

"Ve~! What's this?" Italy wondered crawling towards the strange object and poking it with his paw. "Maybe it's a scarf or pelt that someone left behind. It's so soft! I wonder how it feels?" Italy laid his head on the fur and marveled at how firm and fluffy it was. "Ve! This will do quite nicely! It feels like I'm sleeping on a cloud!" He grasped the object with his paws and snuggled his face into the soft material. Before he knew it, he was fast asleep in lovely comfort, his curl bending with every soft snore he gave.

It wasn't long before they pulled into Heilbronn and America was woken by the jolt. He looked up to see the silhouettes of people outside their stall make their way off the train.

"Kay!'" America grinned, "On to get that first item! Let's get go—."

America has attempted to rise and walk forward, but he found that he was unable to. Something was holding him back preventing his from moving, but there was nothing but wall behind him. He tried again, but was only met with the same results.

"What the heck? Is my back plastered to the wall or somethin'?" He managed to peak his head past the box that sat between him and Italy enough to see his cat friend on the other side.

"Yo! Italy! Dude, wake up!"

Italy lifted his head and looked to America. "Ve? What is it?"

"I'm kind of stuck here! Think you could give me—What's that?"

"Ve~?" Italy questioned.

That! That thing you're holding between your paws!"

"Oh this? I don't really know. I think it might be a scarf or something someone left behind. Whatever it is, it makes a great pillow!"

"Uh…don't freak out Italy, but I think it's moving."

"Ve?" Italy looked down at it and saw that the very end was moving ever so slightly. "Well what do you know, it is moving! Hold on a minute, it goes behind this box! Let me see…"

Italy scooted the box a little and stuck his head past. He stayed like that for a minute or two before looking back to America with a nervous chuckle. "Eh heh…S-sorry. It's...yours."

America blinked. "What?"

Italy chuckled nervously before tilting the emergency case on its side so that America could see what he meant.

"It's yours, see?"

America did see, but he was wishing he didn't. His cat face managed to sprout a blush as he walked to the middle of the train stall they were in for space and walked around in a circle, constantly staring down his back, his face growing redder by the minute.

"You….you slept on my…my…" America stuttered, unable to get the word out. He turned to Italy with a flustered and embarrassed face. "You used my…my…You used it for a pillow?!"

"Kiaa…!" Italy shrunk back, his face becoming as flustered as America's was from fright. "I'm sorry! I didn't know it was your tail! I wouldn't have slept on it if I knew! I swear! It was just so soft and fluffy that I couldn't stop myself! I promise I'll never do it again! Just don't hit me because I'm already vulnerable and I don't want any part of my body to be broken otherwise I might bleed to death within a matter of minutes and be forced to suffer a horrible and prolonged death! I'm sorry!"

America looked behind himself again and stared with a self-conscious disposition. He had completely overlooked his new extension and hadn't even been aware of it until now. H had handled being a cat pretty well, at least in his opinion, but this was where his calmness hit its limit. Sure he wasn't freaking out like Italy was (or does on a regular basis), but still, he just couldn't stop looking at it. Whenever he looked away, it nagged at his mind and he couldn't stop thinking about it. His ears drooped as his face grew blue with embarrassment.

"This is so humiliating and awkward."

Italy walked over the America and waved a paw towards him, trying to comfort him a little. "Ve! Don't say that! You don't have to be embarrassed at all! I think you really have a rather nice tail! I mean, it's long and fluffy, and it really suits you!"

America's face instantly flashed from blue to red reminding Italy a whole lot of his brother when he got embarrassed. There almost appeared to be steam coming off of his face from how hot his cheeks got from blushing.

"Sh-shut up!" America snapped, his tail standing straight up as if it was trying to get in on the confrontation. "Besides, if you wanted to use a tail to sleep on, why didn't you just use your own?!"

Italy's ears twitched as he looked at America curiously. "Use my…own?" he asked.

"Yeah man!" America huffed looking away, "I'm not the only one who got cat-if-ied here!"

Even though they had been on this subject for a while now, like America, Italy hadn't really considered his own extension either. He looked behind himself and saw the long slender limb waiving gently behind him, possessing as much Italian demeanor as the rest of him. However, he wasn't embarrassed as America was, rather he was merely intrigued and curious. He started walking in circles trying to get a better look at his newly recognized appendage. He went round and round so many times that he actually got dizzy as little spirals spinned in his eyes. He shook his vision clear and gave his brown patched train a few assessment swishes.

"Ve!" he said merrily, not at all troubled by the matter, "You're right, I have one too! Mine's a lot more slender than yours is, but it's still very nice!"

"Don't talk about it so lightly!" America grumbled, still embarrassed. He shook his head trying to get his mind off the subject. "Ugh…let's just try and find this apple orchard ok?" He opened up a map he had gotten from the train station and had marked the location of the orchard. He held it up with his paws and examined it carefully.

"Ok listen up! The orchard's gonna' be a way's off. And since we're probably going to end up walking, it might take a while, even a few days! So it's best if we…._What are you doing_!?"

"Ve~?" Italy looked up. He was lying on his side and trying to catch his juddering tail with his paws. "Don't worry, I'm listening!" he said airheadedly.

"That's not what I mean! What are you doing trying to do with your tail?!"

"It's fun!" Italy grinned, his tail thumping on the floor. "You should try it!"

"No way man! I'm not that weak-willed! Geez! Show a little dignity as a country would ya?"

"But I like to relax and play around like this as a country!" Italy defended, "I just have never done it this way before since…well…I kind of couldn't!"

"I don't care! Don't do it anymore! Seeing you do that sort of thing just makes me wanna' cringe dude! So no more of that! Got it?"

Italy rolled back onto his feet and tucked his paws under himself as his ears pressed onto his head, "Ve, okay…"

"Good, now let's move! This hero needs to get back to his old self as soon as possible!"

The two started to walk out of the train as Italy took another glace behind him, then over to America.

"So, I can't play with my tail anymore?"

"No way, bro!" America ordered, "You shouldn't even want to do something like that either dude! It's weird!"

"Oh..." Italy thought for a moment as he followed America, then looked up. "I know! How about I play with your tail instead?"

"Wha-?! NO!" America hissed as his tail became stiff and bushy.

"Ve~! Come on, please?" Italy beamed as he waved a paw towards America's tail, "It really isn't that bad! You shouldn't be so sensitive about it!"

"Stop that!" America flustered. "you're gonna' make me loose focus on where we have to go!"

"Ve!" Italy rolled onto his back on the cobblestone walkway and smiled as he wriggled around. "Being a cat isn't so different from what I usually like to do! I can take things easy and not have to worry about training or work!"

"Have you friggin' lost it man!?" America shouted stomping on Italy's stomach, "Geez, You're starting to sound like Greece! If you stay a cat then you'll have to be content with accomplishing absolutely nothing all your life! You'll probably end up getting attacked by dogs or giant rats or getting hit by a car or some freaky death like that! Plus, you won't ever be able to talk to people or eat decent food ever again! Do you really want to like your life never seeing Germany and abandoning that pasta you can't shut up about?!"

After hearing this, Italy instantly sprang to his feet and sat on his haunches in a pleading position while crying his ever loving eyes out. "No! No! I can't live without pasta! There's no fate on earth worse than living a life that is void of pasta! I want pasta! And Germany too! I want to see him and his angry face and eat his potatoes and wurst while I ask him to play football with me! Please let me have Germany and pasta again!"

"Then let's quit screwin' around and get moving! We're burnin' daylight!"

* * *

"Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn!"

Britain's lovely and astute etiquette could not fully convey how stressed he was at the moment. He grunted and huffed as he drove into the driveway of his home. Slamming the driver's door shut, he marched into his house and crashing the front door closed.

"This is the last thing that needed to happen," he said as he rubbed his face, "Dammit America, where the bloody hell _are_ you, you git?"

He walked into the parlor to think of what to do. Heading over to his office, he searched his papers for anything that might give him an idea, a clue, anything that might help. Unfortunately, despite how much information the papers gave, none of them could tell him where the sought after nation had gone."

This is chaos." Britain mumbled rubbing his face, "I need to calm down. A good cup of tea should help settle my nerves and clear my head."

He took a different route back to the kitchen when he saw his old lamp on the floor. The thing had been sitting there for a while and the oil was starting to seep into the wood.

"Oh hell, what now?" Britain groaned as he picked up the buttery pieces of glass. "When did this break?"

As he gathered up the fragments, he realized that this was the lamp where he had kept the key to his basement. He kept all his 'confidential' documents down there than even the British parliament knew nothing about. He looked for it inside the broken lamp, but it was nowhere to be found.

"What? I could have sworn I kept it in here! Where is it?" he grew a little confused and soon his confusion morphed into frustration, but then his frustration morphed into panic. He began tearing up the house looking for the lost key.

Finally, after searching for ages, he looked in his library. He instantly knew something was wrong when he saw the book on the floor that was used open the secret bookshelf. His face grew pale when he saw that not only had the bookshelf shifted its position, but the cellar door was wide open as well. He dashed down the stairs as fast as he could.

"Lux!" he commanded as soon as he reached the bottom. The candles and the mystical circle lit up as he looked around checking his wares.

"It doesn't look like anything was taken, but still." Britain cringed, "Someone managed to find their way into this room. I don't know how but whoever did it must've been absolutely brilliant and had killer deductive skills to figure it out. There's no way this could've been done so quickly. Whoever did this must've spent ages observing my movements and waiting for the perfect time! But why go to all this trouble and leave everything as it is? Nothing has been stolen as far as I can tell, at least nothing important. But there's only one way to be sure…"

Britain pulled out his cauldron from the wall to the center of his spell circle and lit a fire under it immediately. He started snatching ingredients from the shelves and throwing them in as France would have done with a crock of soup. He was so skilled and fluent in this art that for this sort of thing, he knew exactly what he needed without even referring to his spell book. In a few short minutes, he finished his work and pulled out an old manuscript that was barely bound together by the worn cover. He flipped to the needed page and ran his index finger down the text until he came to the needed line and chanted.

"_Ln odorem O intrare summo artificio facta, ingrediatur coram ætérnum acer. Dic mihi quid adhuc posess, deperditi, et notum facere!"_

The circle burned brightly with green flames that evaporated all of the elixir in the cauldron and sent out a fine blue mist over the entire room. As it fell, the blue color hovered all throughout the room Britain looked around for a minute, then turned around and saw a thin blue line of hovering mist going up the stairs.

"So something was taken, but what?"

Without a moment's hesitation, Britain ran back up the steps and followed the blue mist that created a faint blue line where the missing potion had been taken. Britain grew a little concerned as it went on. The line was already faint as it was, but it seemed to get less and less distinguishable. It seemed that the rain and passage of time washed away the mystic redolence from the stolen item and there might not to learn.

However, though the trail grew faint, the mist didn't fade away but remained strong. Britain followed it into the field where the mist gathered in a large cluster. Britain kneeled down and saw fragments of crystal half buried in the soil.

"So something was taken. Not only that, it was broken too. That's bad. If only I knew what kind of elixir it was and who stole it. It might've been something harmless or even a dud, or it could've been an extremely dangerous solution. But I can't tell anything from what I have right now."

Britain rose to his feet and was about to head back to his house when he noticed an almost invisible line of mist continuing on to the other side of the meadow. Curious, he followed it until it led him to a large rooted tree.

"That's odd." He muttered to himself, "Either the formula somehow managed to trickle all the way over here after it was broken, or someone was affected and continued on to this spot."

He looked down at the clump of mist hovering by his feet. He walked around seeing if there was any other trail, but the mist ended there. Suddenly, Britain felt his foot slip into a hole and he stumbled to the ground. He picked himself up and brushed off his clothes only to notice something bundled up under the roots.

"Hey what's that?" he wondered aloud, "Some kind of animal? No, it looks like a pelt, or more accurately, someone's clothing. Probably the person who stole the elixir no doubt."

He started to pull the jacket out when he noticed a while mark on the left shoulder. He peered at it for a minute before gasping in dread.

"But this is….!"

He immediately pulled out the jacket and held it up. It was all too recognizable to him. The color, the wear, the design, even the faint scent of grilled meat caught his attention as he shakily held up…

"America's leather fighter jacket!"

* * *

America and Italy had been walking for hours and were starting to get tired. Well, Italy was really the one feeling winded.

"Hey!" he moaned loudly to America. The other nation looked behind to see Italy lagging far behind him. "I'm tired…and hungry! Do you think we might have pasta soon?"

"Pasta?" America perked, "Oh yeah man, we can totally do that. Let me just pull it out of my limousine that I'm carrying in my POCKET!"

"Ve?" Italy looked up, "Cats have pockets?"

"Uh…no, I was being sarcastic." America sighed, "But if we could, I would totally go for pasta man. Although I am curious, why are you so crazy about pasta?"

"Ve! How could I not be?" Italy leaned forward and arched his back as his tail gaily whisked back and forth. "Pasta is the most amazing thing in the world (besides pizza), it can be served both hot and cold and still be deliciouso! You can put so many things on it like feta, fish, shrimp, mushrooms, more pasta, beef, chicken, peppers, and best of all tomatoes!"

Italy lifted his head as he sat down and thought of all the wonderful different kinds of pasta he made throughout his life.

"I like it best when I make pasta for Germany! I put so much wonderful things in it for him. And it's amazing how fantastico his wurst tastes when put together with pasta! Germany always likes it when I mix some of his favorite foods in when I make him meals! He likes my cooking so much, he'll stand right next to me while I'm working on the food. Most of the time when he does, he like to scrub the counters I'm cooking on really hard until they shine. I'm not sure why though…"

"Dude," America squinted as he smiled, "You really need to try expanding your horizons."

"Ve?" Italy looked at America.

"Oh nothin' man! Now let's find a place where we can hit the sack for the night."

"There's a place!"

Italy pointed to an old, desolate cottage that looked like it hadn't been touched in years. They guessed that whoever left it didn't have a lot of time since a lot of furniture and personal items were still stationed inside. However, the two were in quite an undeveloped area where another house wasn't around for miles, so they made their way inside.

"Woah!" America exclaimed, "This place sure looks ready to collapse! Hope it stands for the night!"

"Si," Italy agreed "I don't want to have to end up wet again like this morning. That wasn't fun at all."

"I'm feelin' ya dude!" America puffed, "I may be a hero, but even I have things I don't care to go through twice!"

"Well," Italy yawned, "I've needed a siesta all day! I sure hope we find that apple tomorrow!"

"Me too bro!" said America, "I still don't get what it means by an apple with death but also life. I mean, sounds kinda cheesy ya' know?"

"It reminds me a little of that story."

"Huh? What story?"

"You know! 'Biancaneve ei sette nani'! 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs!"

"Oh yeah, that story!" America beamed, "I could never forget that one! My pal Walt totally made that killer-awesome flick about it! Dude knew how to make a film back in the day! Ah…good times, good times."

"I know that movie!" Italy grinned, "But I know the story a little more from Germany. See, it was part of the Grimm Tales that originated here, so he would tell me about them from time to time…wait!" Italy leapt to his feet, "death and life! The apple from the story! That's the apple that we need!"

"What?" America shouted, "You're kiddin' me! We gotta get an apple from a story? How's that even gonna work?"

"I don't know, but I am sure it's the one we need! It's a good thing we're at Germany place right now! We're certain to find something that'll work here!"

"We'll that's fine and dandy man, except we don't know how to get it!" America pulled out the page from the sack around his neck and opened it up. "Here, read it again! There's gotta be something else or some mistake!"

Italy reviewed the page that America held up to his face and shook his little curled head. "Sorry, but all it says is 'An apple of life and death'. Nothing else!"

"Well great! Just great! We're stuck with a stupid riddle which has an even stupider answer and now we can't even!...Hey what does this say?"

America flipped the page over. Oh the top of the back it read:

**Se c'è qualche dubbio se gli elementi necessari si trovano o meno, richiamano semplicemente i loro nomi e, se presenti, si illuminano brevemente. Con questo potrete sapere se sono stati raccolti.**

_If there is some doubt whether the items needed are found or not, merely call out their names and if they are present, they will illuminate briefly. By this you will know whether they have been collected._

"Call out their name?" America frowned, "The heck does that mean?"

"I guess it means that you read the words listed here, and if it's nearby, we'll notice!"

"Okay, I guess that makes things a little easier, but still! There's the dilemma of actually figuring out where to find it! I mean, it's not like I can just call out 'The apple of death and life!' and we'll be lucky enough to be right next to what we're -!"

"Look above you!" Italy cried.

America leaped out of the way before a heavy book came crashing down from the shelf America had been sitting by. It was old and worn, but that wasn't what caught their attention. Inside, they just managed to catch the faint blue glow die from in between the pages."

"Ve! Did you see?"

"I sure did…" America nodded. He took a deep breath and said again. "The apple of death and life!"

The pages shining again and Italy quickly flipped to the one that was glowing. When he did, the page stopped illuminating and the two of them could see that what had glowed was an illustration of the wicked queen handing the poisoned apple to snow white.

"Sooo…" America said slowly, "I guess an illustration is all we need?"

"Well it is a riddle," Italy pointed out, "You can't take it too seriously. You have to be open minded, like those guys my grandpa used to hang out with! I think one of their names was…Plato?"

"Isn't that a type of kid's clay?" America asked.

Italy shrugged, "Oh well! At least we got the first ingredient!"

"Rock out! If we keep things movin' like this, we'll be good in no time! No one will even notice we were gone!"

"Yeah!" Italy cheered, "I guess thinks are all going to work out a-okay after all!"


	7. When Worlds Collide

**I DO NOT own Hetalia or any of its characters.**

**...nor do I claim to own the history of the world :3**

* * *

Pourquoi l'Angleterre? Why does it have to be at my place?!"

"Because everything is completely chaotic at mine with Germany's accusations!" the English voice cracked out of the phone's mouthpiece. "You do realize I am considered the closest thing to an accomplice in Germany's eyes! Not only that, but we've got the entire Secret Service scrambling around trying to find any trace of America and Italy!"

"Italy? What happened to Italy?"

"I don't know, but he's gone and Germany is throwing the blame on America. I don't know where either of them are and I think something very bad has happened to them both!"

"Eh! Pas ma petite Italie! Not my beautiful little French territory!"

"Either way, there's just too much going on at my place to hold any kind of meeting! So it's going to have to be at yours!"

"But Angleterre! Why do we have to hold a meeting about this?"

"Oh, I don't know….Maybe it's so that we can be prepared if Germany decides to throw WORLD WAR III AT US! Only this time around, America's not going to be there to pull our arses out of the fire! Just get the Allies together and get it done now frog!"

A click on the other end of the line announced the end of the conversation. France pulled the phone from his ear and looked at it with disgust. He pressed the switch hook on his rotary dial phone and slowly began to dial another number. He listened as the phone rang and someone picked up on the other line.

"Allo? Oui, c'est France. Listen, I need you to contact Russia and China and tell them that there is an emergency meeting going to be held in Paris. When? I don't know! I still have to plan that! Just tell them to come over here as fast as they can! Aller!"

* * *

"Ok, we've got the first one," America checked as he slipped the folded illustration into the purple sack. "What's next?"

"A flower of fulfilled desire." Italy said as he sat on the ground, his curl bouncing in the breeze.

"So, ya' know any other stories that involve flowers?"

"Uh…not off the top of my head." Italy laughed nervously, "I'm not sure if we can really expect to find all the ingredients in the same place in the same way. But we should try and consider any angle as a possibility."

"Yeah, guess you're right…"America sighed. "Man, what a drag! So how do we know the type of flower we need?"

"You know, my big brother France knows quite a bit about flowers! In fact, he often would talk to me about how different ones have different meaning and you have to be careful about what kinds you give to pretty ladies since they might indicate certain feelings!"

"Hey! That might just be the thing we need!" America perked. "If that's the case, we just need to find the flower that represents desire and whola! We've got the second ingredient!"

"But it's not that easy!" Italy shook his head. "We don't know what to look for or if we can find the right flower! It might be something that is extremely rare and hard to get!"

"Not if we go to a place which keeps several types of flowers in one area. Since France is such an expert on flowers, my guess is that his people would keep various types of flowers from around the world available, right?"

"I…"Italy hesitated, "I suppose, but…"

"Ok! Then we need to head over to his place pronto!"

"But…can you be sure? I mean, even if we get there, how will we know which one to take?"

"Easy! We just say the name of it just like we did with the whole apple deal! We find the one that glows. Boom! We're good!"

"I don't know…" Italy hesitated, "The concept seems a little shaky."

"Risks are a hero's job! Don't worry! When I'm right, I'm right! We're going to France's place! No arguments!"

* * *

Germany drove through the streets of Berlin, he was agitated and anxious to get to his office. He looked through his city at the lights in the night air. So many people so ignorant of what was going on, ignorant of him and Italy and the other nations.

"It must be nice to live in such bliss." Germany muttered, "To have such petty concerns and troubles. How fortunate."

Germany turned his head over to look at the passenger seat. For a moment, he could see the faint shape of Italy sitting next to him, that stupid laughing grin on his blank face. He could hear his nonstop talk of pasta, pretty women, football, and how he and Germany were such good and wonderful friends. It always agitated him whenever he did, but now he realized just how much he missed it.

"I guess it's easy to take things for granted until you've lost them." Germany muttered turning his attention back to the road. "I have been at fault for that sin a thousand times over, haven't I Italy?"

No answer came, Germany grunted. He was starting to wonder if throwing the blame at America so hastily was a bad choice. He had been so angry in that moment and could think of no other explanation, so his logic instantly placed America as the culprit. However, America was never the sort of person to occupy other places, at least not for an extended period of time. Britain and France were more into that sort of thing. America mostly kept to himself, almost to a fault.

Germany looked into the rear-view mirror and saw the sack in the back seat which contained Italy's clothing. He had just returned from getting it cleaned since it was so dirty. He thought back to when he first found it and scowled.

"Nein." He barked to himself, "It's too suspicious. First Italy disappears and then America won't show his face to the rest of the world. Something is up, I don't know what it is, but I'm going to stand by my claim. I am responsible for Italy and won't allow anything to happen to him."

The black Volkswagon with the black, orange, and yellow striped flags on the front drove through the iron gates that opened for him and pulled up to the entrance of a large, official building. German soldiers were stationed along the steps as an officer came down and saluted him as he came out of the driver's seat.

"Willkommen zurück Herr Deutschland!" the officer said astutely.

"Grüße. wohl Soldat!" Germany ordered as he removed the bag containing Italy's uniform and came around the car to the officer. "What news is there?" he asked as he and the officer walked up the stairs.

"It appears that Britain has called a meeting between the Allies. They are going to meet in Paris very soon although the time and date are not fixed."

Germany looked to the officer. "The Allies?" he questioned, "Will America be present as usual?"

"I am afraid we aren't positive of that, but we will inform you as soon as we are certain."

"Gut." Germany nodded walking through the front door that was opened for him. His boots clicked as he walked against the pristine marble floor. He walked to the elevator, pressing the button with his nail so as not to get a fingerprint on it. The elevator lights flicked gradually downward as it traveled down the shaft. Germany turned to the officer.

"I will try to keep things peaceful for now. We don't want to run into this matter blind, there's still a lot of information missing. I only hope that what we are doing right now is making mountains out of molehills."

"And if not?" the officer asked, "What if we find evidence that Mr. Italy is in danger? What should be done then Mr. Germany?"

The elevator opened up with a ding. Germany looked to the officer and his face grew grave. His brows furrowed as his ice blue eyes looked into the officer's own.

"If Italy has been harmed in any way and if America is responsible…then God give me strength."

The elevator doors closed and slowly moved their way up to the higher floors. Germany looked in the bag he carried at Italy's clothes. They were neatly folded do that he could see he tie and shirt. It was like he was looking at a ghost when he saw those clothes without Italy in them. It almost hurt to look at them.

The elevator let out a 'ping!' as Germany's floor was reached. He strode out of the elevator and walked briskly down the clean halls. Anyone who passed him would instantly stop to salute him, as was custom in the military to do with any country, even at America's place. Those in the military would often be some of the few people who knew about the existence of the personification of their countries. The military and those in politics of course. There were others, mostly those dealing in the big economics and such, but most of the time regular people knew little of their existence.

But this never really bothered the nations that much. After all, a lot of people go their whole lives not knowing other people, even important ones. Right now, all Germany had on his mind was what to do about Italy's absence.

Eventually, he came to his office and sat down in his leather chair. He stared out of the window for a while at the city below before rolling back around. He tapped his fingers on the wood and stared at the phone that sat close to his arm. He looked at it while deep in thought and considered the choice he was about to make.

Very, very hesitantly, he picked up the phone and placed it to his ear. With even greater hesitation, he began to dial the number that he had known for quite some time now. As he heard it ring, he wondered whether he was making the right decision. He was about to hang up when he heard no response, but as he was midway to placing the phone back in its holder, a voice came on the line.

"Kon'nichiwa?" it asked. Germany slowly placed the mouthpiece back to his face.

"Hello Japan. It's me, Germany."

"Oh, Doitsu. I was not expecting a call from you. Is there something troubling you?"

"Um…well…." Germany hesitated thinking carefully about what he should tell his ally. He sighed and looked towards the phone.

"It's Italy." He muttered, "He's disappeared."

"Eh? What do you mean Itaria has disappeared?"

"I'm not quite sure myself, but…I'm afraid something may have happened to him and I can't help feel but America has something to do with it."

"Amerika? "

"Yes…I was wondering if you would be willing to come and help me."

"….Well…"

Germany grew a little irritated. "Listen to me! I don't need you saying 'I'll think about it' or 'maybe next time' or some Scheiße like that! Just tell me right now, flat out: Yes or no?"

Germany waited. For a while, there was no noise except for the soft sound of grinding teeth between Germany's lips. He waited for an answer almost certain that Japan would turn him down. That was his way after all, it was rare for him to agree with anything.

At last the sound of Japan's breath returned to the phone.

"Hai."

Germany was taken aback. "Wh-What? Are you serious?"

"I will help. I would not normally do this but, if Italy is in as much trouble as you suggest he is, then as an ally, I must help him."

Germany felt a little relief in his heart as he heard the consent of this ancient country. The knowledge that someone was going to help him in his endeavor gave his a sense of relief causing him to even break a little smile on his face.

"Danke."

* * *

"Hurry up dude! You're gonna' get left behind!"

Italy ran as fast as he could, but since he wasn't being chased, his pace left something to be desired. He huffed and whined and moaned as he forced his legs to carry him closer and closer to America. America sat on the entrance of a cargo train that was beginning to pull out and was only getting faster. Italy huffed as he called out.

"I'm not gonna make it! It's too much for me!"

America looked panicked for a moment and looked down in thought as his eyes wandered endlessly as he tried thinking of what to do. Suddenly, he looked back up and his face turned to horror.

"Italy! There's a German Shepard closing in! It's coming after you!

"Eh?!" Italy panicked.

"No! Don't look back! You'll slow down and get devoured! Holy crap! It's huge! Italy! It's almost on top of you! Run Italy! Run before it swallows you up!"

"_Ve!_" Italy panicked as his pace quadruplicated in a millisecond and he flew through the air like a rocket. With a bounce he managed to get his front half onto the cart as his hind legs dangled helplessly. America reached out and grabbed Italy with his paws as he hauled him in.

"Ve! Ve!" Italy breathed hard. "That was so scary! I thought for sure I was going to get eaten!"

"Actually, you really didn't need to worry, there was no German Shepard."

"Ve?!" Italy looked at America with a look of disbelief, "You mean I was never in any real danger?"

"Nope!" America smirked as he looked half eyed at Italy through his spectacles.

"Then why did you say there was?"

"Well how else was I gonna' get you on this train?" America asked. He walked over to the entrance and pushed the sliding door closed as the train picked up speed. He had to use his entire body to move it at all, and eventually, he just gave up when it reached halfway. He walked over to Italy and sat next to him.

"You sure know how to run when being chased!" America noted. "Seriously dude, with that kind of speed, I'm shocked you haven't won every Olympic Game with those legs!"

"Well, if someone big and scary was coming after me, I might." Italy flushed.

"Well, now I know where I got my speed from!" America grinned. Italy looked up at him.

"Ve? What do you mean?"

"Don't you remember? Back in the late 19th century? Boy, and I thought my colonizing days were tough!"

"Oh! I think I know what you mean! That was when a lot of individuals from here like my people and Germany's went over to your place right?"

"Yup!" America nodded, "You know for a while, I was afraid my place was going to sink into the ocean!"

"Ve! Really?"

"Ho ho! You wouldn't believe how many came over! New York was exploding, Boston was flooded, Atlanta was barely holding together, and don't even get me started on California!" America laughed for a few minutes before becoming quiet.

"You know, it's strange. It seems like every half-century or so, I have to figure out who I am. I change so much and so quickly, it's disorienting at times. When I was still just a young kid, I was already a big mixed concoction due to the different countries that came over. The Swedes, Finnish, Spaniards, French, Dutch, your folk, and of course Britain's people were all creating who I was. They were all so different and diverse, I felt afraid I wouldn't be able to handle it. I guess that's why I talk, eat, and do so much all the time. Maybe it's because I'm made up of all these different people from other nations.

Sometimes… I feel their pasts and their hate for each other and it hurts." America rubbed a paw against his chest in recollection. "Those feelings got really bad at times and made me sick. I think one of the worst times was the Civil War. I could feel so much hate inside me. For the longest time, I was sure I was going to die. Even when it was over, I was so frail from the aftermath that it scared me. Oftentimes I wonder whether all these conflicting features within me are going to one day just tear me apart into nothing."

Italy looked at America dolefully. In his mind, he could almost see his dear Grandpa Rome show in this country next to him. Like America, Italy's predecessor had gotten so large that he was made up of so many different regions and people. But since those established places hated each other so much, there was always so much fighting and death. Until eventually, his grandpa just got too great to manage and he fell.

"But you know somethin'?" America asked. "Somehow, someway, all those different people melt into what I am, yet they still hold on to their individuality. I want to try going through my life holding on to that. And even if those differences scare me, even if they cause me pain, I don't ever want to lose it. Because through that pain, I still make the dreams of everyone plausible. I'm not really just a single type of country, I'm made up of pieces from everyone else so in a way, I'm a part of you all. I guess that's why I feel like the hero. In a strange, crazy way, I united the world just by existing. Every time I look at my flag, I feel I'm really looking at the dreams of the world meshed into one great banner."

America stayed silent for a moment with a content little smile on his face. Suddenly, he flung his head up and let out a series of obnoxiously loud and hearty laughs.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Sorry! It's not like me to talk about sappy stuff like this! That's more Canada's style. I'm sure that all sounded pretty cheesy huh?"

America curled up into a ball and yawned.

"Well enough stupid talk! Since we've got a while before the train pulls into Paris, we should get some shut eye!"

"Ve~!" Italy nodded and curled up next to America pleased that the nation didn't try to edge away from him this time around. Both of them sat together and slept to the rocking of the train as it rolled past the amber and gold leaved trees.


	8. Business in Paris

**I DO NOT own Hetalia or any of its characters.**

**...nor do I claim to own the history of the world :3**

* * *

Russia looked as the fields of yellow and gold whizzed by his train. He wished he could have stayed a little in Heilbronn, but the meeting was an impending matter that he could no longer afford to delay. He had gotten a cheap train ticket to Paris at the last minute. In fact, it was just an empty cargo train which was just going to Paris in order to deliver different carts that were needed. Mostly just storage, but there was a dining, private carriage, and an old fashioned passenger cart which Russia had managed to convince the conductor (By nearly crushing his arm into little pieces when he wouldn't stop refusing) to let him ride in. He had bought some sunflowers while in town and looked at them adoringly.

"Ah…." He smiled, "the flower of the sun in my hands. If only I could carry the bird of fire on my arms." Russia had occasionally seen a firebird fly by every century or so, but he had never been able to get a close look at it. He did however manage to get hold of a feather which he kept in his house. The thing was so bright and beautiful, that it lit his largest room with a warm and wonderful glow.

"Mm…." Russia smiled pleasantly as he thought of these beautiful, bright, warm things. He always thought fondly of anything that looked or felt warm. That was why he was always so entranced with sunflowers.

Russia felt the train jitter a little as it pulled into the station. He looked outside at the yard of carts and saw the Eiffel Tower just barely peaking over it.

"I guess we've arrived, da?" he said to himself. He held his sunflowers like a little child and slowly got off the train as his beloved scarf flowed behind him. He looked around at his surroundings as the conductor edged towards him cautiously.

"W-would you like me to show you the way into town?" he asked.

"Net spasibo." Russia said smiling like a little boy, "I'll be fine. I've been in Paris before. Besides, all I need to do is follow that tower France is so proud of."

The conductor looked towards it and nodded in acknowledgement. "I suppose you're right, that think is pretty noticeable from afar. And the French do make a show of it don't they."

"I can't believe that idiot expected to build it only to tear it down later on. Any fool knows if you want to do something like that you have to command massive man-power. At least China understands that much."

The conductor looked to Russia with a confused look on his face. "What 'idiot' are you talking about?"

"Mr. France of course. Who else?"

"Who's Mr. France? And speaking of names, I didn't catch yours when we met earlier."

"Oh, don't bother. It really isn't necessary for you to know who I am. After all…"

Russia suddenly gained a horrifying expression on his face. His face became dark and purple as he stared at the man. His violet eyes grew paler and had a look of mad insanity combined with knowledge of horrible torture and bloodshed. If anyone looked into those eyes, they could almost hear the screams of men, women, and children of centuries over echoing in their minds. His innocent juvenile grin turned into a smirk of impending destruction for whoever caught a glimpse of it. His scarf began to fluctuate a little as if it was coming alive from the bottled torment Russia was releasing. The heavy aura of beleaguered feelings he was giving off was so potent and heavy, it actually distorted the air around him which became cold and a deathly-purple. He let out a few soft and almost inaudible chuckles.

"…kolkolkol…you will all become one with me anyway. It is only a matter of time."

As quickly as it had come, the horrific atmosphere vanished and Russia replaced his frightful expression with that of a little boy once more. The conductor however was traumatized and backed away as his mental scarring commenced. Russia smiled gently, almost seeming ignorant of why he was so freaked out.

"Well, off to the meeting then." He giggled to himself. He started to walk towards the city when he heard the sound of something shifting. He turned to look down the train's cargo and saw two cats exit one of the cargo carts. One was almost white with a dark brown scruff around its neck with a great fluffy tail. The other was a light brown with dark brown patches on its head, back, and tail. The calico seemed to follow the other one who was leading the other in a very 'matter-of-fact' kind of way.

"Ohh…" Russia murmured gently looking at them for a while. "Kak grustno." He commented as he watched them. Russia then heard the Notre Dame Bells toll in the distance and made his way to the meeting.

* * *

"Come on man! Stop draggin' your butt!"

"But I'm so tired!" Italy moaned. "Can't we find a place to sleep?"

"What?" America exclaimed "We spent the entire trip here sleeping!"

"I know but, it's time for my siesta!"

"Wh-!.. Are you-?...Then what do you call what you just took on the way here?!"

"Make-up sleep." Italy responded. "I like to make sure I make up for any siestas I missed."

America just stared at Italy in disbelief for a while. Italy's tail swayed in response to the pleasant and at-ease mood he was in. He smiled his usual grin as he looked at America expectantly with those cheery eyes of his.

"We're not sleeping dude, end of discussion." America replied flatly. Italy sighed as he followed America who strut proudly before him. Neither of them noticed the pastel-haired Russian bearing sunflowers a few yards away.

Into the city of Paris they went, where art is a syndrome and there are couples kissing on every street (literally…EVERY FRICKEN' STREET). America walked around looking for a flower store. No trouble there. Even in autumn, the flower stores were still rich with color and variety in Paris. The pair spotted their very first shop within minutes of walking through the streets.

"Ve~! I think we should try here! This place seems to keep a lot of flowers!"

"No kiddin' bro! Geez, these Frenchies and their flowers! It's mega wacky!"

"Ve!" Italy waved a paw at America. "Take out the list so I can read the second line! Maybe one of these flowers will light up like they did with the page!"

"Gotcha!" America said as he attempted to give thumbs up, but badly failed. He pulled out the page and turned it around to face Italy.

"Ok bud!" he encouraged. "Read the second line noWOYEOEOWOW!"

Italy jumped and backed under one of the small tables displaying white magnolias. He trembled in dread at the horrible noise America made.

"What happened? Was it a surprise attack? Are we going to die? Mio Dio! We are going to die aren't we? Oh Germany! Germany help!"

"No, No, No!" America grumbled, kneading his rump with a paw. "It's just this stupid tail! Some jerk walked by and stepped on it! I think they were wearing high heels too!" America grabbed his injured appendage and laid it close to his side so it would be out of the pedestrians' way that scattered about them. He looked at with disdain.

"Stupid, useless extension! When I get back to D.C. I swear, I'm going to pass a bill to ban these things!"

Italy looked at America strangely. "Ve? How would that even work?"

"Never mind!" America butted in holding the paper towards Italy excitedly. "We've gotta' antidote to make! So get to readin'!"

"Sissignore!" Italy saluted coming out from under the table he was hiding below. He looked at the second item on the list and said aloud, "A flower of fulfilled desire!"

America turned his head at the flowers and looked in expectation to see if any of them stood out. But pretty as they were, none shone with those words.

"Ah you're doin' it wrong! Here! Let the hero show you how it's done!" America boasted. "A flower of fulfilled desire!"

Again, no luck.

"So, should we keep trying?" Italy asked.

"Nah bro!" America smirked, "We haven't got time to waste on this Podunk little shack! If it ain't here, it ain't here! Come on, there's plenty of flower stores around ol' France's place!"

Indeed there were. In fact, it was difficult to even tell it was autumn. There were so many shops open with so many different flower types, it was impossible for someone not to find the one they were looking for.

Unless that someone happened to be Italy and America.

They wandered around for hours going from shop to shop, looking from flower to flower, and chanting that line over and over. But not matter how much they search or how many times they said words, it was no use."

"What the heck man?" America gasped as he plopped down against one of the columns midway on the Pont Alexandre III Bridge. "Isn't there any flower in this whole stinkin' city that is good enough for this dumb paper?"

"Ve…" Italy gasped. "I think if I say that phrase one more time, I'll go crazy!"

"Well then don't jump off this bridge," America bit back a snicker. "Or else you'll go….pft!..._In Seine!"_

America started laughing hysterically in his usual fashion, flailing on the ground as he clutched his stomach. "HAHAHAHAHA! Get it? In Seine! Man that's classic! HAHAHAHAHA!"

Italy forced a few chuckles out. "_It was funnier when Germany told It." _he secretly thought to himself. Of course, when Germany had mentioned going insane, they had happened to be over the Seine River at the time and Italy laughed like crazy. Germany never even cracked a smile and was annoyed at Italy for turning his serious instructions into a jest.

But something caught Italy's attention. On the other side of the bridge, there was a couple standing romantically together. Of course, they had seen hundreds of couples during their search, especially since they were looking into flower shops. However Italy, being quite the romancer himself, couldn't help but notice the red rose that the man held behind his back. He was quite sure tied to it, with a ribbon impersonating France's flag, was a diamond ring.

"Ve~! Look over there!" he shook America.

America pushed himself back into a sitting position with one paw as he wiped tears from his eyes with the other.

"Ah-he he. Heh…What? What is it?" he asked trying to calm down from the joke.

"Look at that rose! Maybe that's the one we need?"

"Oh, come on dude!" America rolled his eyes from behind his glasses. "How many roses have we come by today? What makes you think that this one's any different?"

Italy looked to the flower and said as loud as he could "A flower of fulfilled desire!"

To the astonishment and elation of them both, the flower let off a blue glow for a couple seconds before going back to its normal appearance. America instantly leapt to his feet.

"Whoah! Seriously? We've been running around for hours and the stupid thing was with that guy? That's messed up!"

"It _is_ supposed to be a special flower. I'm just glad we found it at all!"

"Well, no time to waste! I'll swoop in and snatch it before he'll even be able to notice!"

America ran over to the other side, but hadn't calculated the fact that there were giant cars driving across the bridge ready to crush him. He barley dodged massive wheels three times before making to the other side and letting out a relieved breath.

"Man that was close! Sure glad that's ov-"

"Ah! Germany! Germany heeelllp!"

America looked behind him to see Italy in the middle of the road spazzing at the cars whizzing around him. America turned with a panicked expression.

"Don't worry! I'll save ya pal! You're safe with the hero!"

Ignoring the massive cars that threatened all around, America ran over to Italy who was sitting all curled up with his paws over his head in fear. America clamped his teeth onto Italy's tail and pulled him out of the way just before a large truck was about to smash them. Italy's curl was bouncing all over the place as he waived his paws frantically and spouted out tears like a geyser.

"Germany! Help! Help Germany! I don't want to die! Germany!"

America hauled Italy onto the sidewalk and breathed heavily as he let go of his tail. Italy was still crying for Germany and wriggling around on his belly as if he was drowning. America took a paw and smacked him hard on the head.

"Shut up! We've gotta' get that flower!"

Italy got up, instantly ceasing his crying as they both looked to the couple. The man was kneeling on one knee and holding up the flower to the woman as he spoke in French. After a moment the woman smiled and jumped on the man shouting "Oui! Oui, mon amour!" She let go of the man as he got up and spread her hand as her new fiancée slipped the ring over her finger. She sniffed the flower and then embraced the man giving him an intimate kiss. As she did, she dangled the rose in her hand behind the man.

"Now's our chance!" America shouted. He turned to Italy jerking him close to the man. "Quick! Climb on my back!"

"Ve…ok!" Italy said hesitantly. He clambered the best his cat form could allow onto America's shoulders. They were both trying to stand on their hind legs so Italy could reach the rose. It was fortunate for them that the French kiss for such long at a time.

"Quit squirmin' around!" America managed to mutter as he tried keeping his balance. "Just reach out and grab it!"

"Ve! I'm trying but, I'm just too short!" Italy cried as he stretched his paws towards their objective. "If only I was tall like Germany!"

"Screw Germany!" America strained. "If only we were friggin' people!"

America felt his hind legs get wobbly and he knew that he wouldn't be able to hold Italy much longer. He struggled for a bit before giving one last attempt to stretch his body as much as possible. Once he released this explosion of energy, he collapsed.

When America stretched his body out, Italy managed to catch the bud between his paws before he fell. Fortunately the woman was only holding onto the ribbon on the flower so when Italy had gotten hold of the rose, it slipped out without any trouble. The couple didn't even notice as they stayed locked in their passionate embrace.

"Capito!" Italy exclaimed as he fell on his back with the flower seated neatly on his face. America smirked as he walked over, took the flower, and placed it in the purple sack around his neck.

"And that's two!" he announced.

"Now for numero tre sì?" Italy asked happily rolling to his feet.

"You got it man! Now let's see what the next one…"

America suddenly turned his attention to the shore. His face grew excited as he jumped up and down pointing a paw towards what animated him so much.

"Dude! Dude! Look! It's Iggy!"

"Ve? Britain is at big brother France's place?" Italy asked, a little afraid to run into him. "What's he doing here?"

"No idea bro! But looks like he's headed for that big building over there!"

"You mean the L'Hôtel National Des Invalide?"

"Yeah that, whatever! Come on! We're gonna' lose him!"

Before Italy could say something, America threw the country onto his back and started running at full speed towards the shore while Italy hung onto his neck and started crying for his dear life with his usual choir of: "Germany! Germany!"

* * *

France, Russia, and China all sat at the table and waited for the meeting to begin. France was not feeling at all comfortable with Russia sitting so close to him (Of course for France in terms of 'close' to Russia, there was at least four seat spaces between him and the cold nation).

China was annoyed at being called to a meeting with the western nations, but his own country was currently giving him some irritating business, so he figured he'd switch one headache for another hoping that this one was less troublesome. He had been waiting for a while and during that time, he'd taken out a case of little ivory carved animal figurines he had brought and began stacking them, making a delicate and thin structure that reminded France of the Eiffel Tower.

Russia was just sitting quite comfortably in his seat with a very gentle and childish smile on his face as he gently hummed the tune for Casatschok. He never gave his opinions or his feelings about the meeting, he would just come to these sorts of things without complaint or comment. Plus, he had stopped by another town before coming to Paris since it had a big field of sunflowers. Because of this, he was in a particularly good mood at the moment, but it's difficult to tell that sort of thing with Russians let alone Mr. Russia himself.

China was coming down to his last figurine. He was getting excited because he hadn't been able to complete his animal tower since Marco Polo visited his country back in 1271. He breathed cautiously as he very gently held the last carving (which was a mouse) between his index finger and his thumb. He ever so carefully tried to steady his hand as he lowered it towards the tower. He was squatting on his chair with both feet on the cushion as he did not want to touch the table. With mind-racking slowness, he began to lower the carving closer and closer to the top of the tower. His heart was racing from excitement as he was but one centimeter from completing the game.

"Glad to see that you're all here! We have some serious issues to discuss so listen up!"

Britain had marched into the room and slammed both his hands onto the table as he made his announcement. The moment he did, the tower that China had worked so hard on completely tumbled, just as he was about to set down the last figurine. The four thousand year old country looked at the cluttered animals and lowered his hanging arm with a huff. He turned to Britain with buzzing contempt in his face.

"Thanks a lot, ass!" he shouted. "I don't know why I expected you to show up any other time then right when I don't want to see you!"

"Oh quiet," France patronized. "That thing was ready to fall over anyway!"

"Aya?! This…coming from the guy….who is world renowned for his _engineering_ skills!"

"Oh shut the bloody hell up you two!" Britain interjected. "We don't have time to argue about this nonsense!"

"Fine!" China snapped. "So what did we come here for, Opium?"

"Well since we're all here, I want to share something which is currently confidential with you all!"

"Hold on," Russia raised a hand. "Isn't America supposed to be present?"

"Well, that's actually what the meeting is about." informed Britain.

"Is that so?" China asked, "If that's the case, I have some things I'd like to say about him! He said he was going to give me a message to ask for my labor sometime soon, but he hasn't even called me even once!"

"That might be because he's…well, missing."

"What?! That bastard lied to me?! I give every opportunity he wants and he doesn't even consider what I go through to offer him help! Next time I see him, I swear, I'm going to kick his balls so hard he'll…!"

"AHEM!" Britain coughed unnecessarily loud. "Back to the matter at hand, like I said, America is missing. It wouldn't be such a big problem as to call you here, only it happens that Italy has disappeared as well. Germany has unfortunately seen fit to place the blame of Italy's absence on America. However, I am quite convinced that America is not at fault. But until evidence is found that indicates otherwise, I'm afraid that Germany has all the reason to assume the worst of him."

"And you called us here because….?" China questioned.

"_Because_ Germany is taking this matter to an extreme and there is a very plausible likelihood that it could escalate into something very ugly very quickly! We the Allies need to be prepared for the worst!"

Russia turned his head. "So what do you suggest we do?"

"That is actually why I called all of you together. We're doing our best with the Secret Intelligence gathering as much information as they can. Unfortunately, that's where my ideas come to an end. America is our ally (annoying as he is), and we need him as much as he needs us! Now do any of you have any ideas of what to do?"

"I have an idea!" China raised his hand.

"Ah, splendid! What do you propose?"

"It is quite simple. We contact Germany and tell him America is dead. Then I take all of his land so that there is no suspicion! Germany is happy, no more threat!"

"Unless you weren't paying attention, this is a conference about rescue! Not a bloody 'last-will-and-testament' reading! And you completely overlooked Italy! How is that going to work?"

"Now worries! I offer to take Italy's place off his hands as well!"

Britain smacked his hand on his face as it slid it down very slowly. He leaned on the table as his head bowed and sighed. He inhaled deeply and lifted his head.

"Does anyone else have any other ideas that _won't_ get us killed?"

The room was quiet for a moment except for the sound of China grumbling at Britain's last comment. Finally, Russia raised his hand.

"Um…I think that we need to know a little more before we can properly decide what to do. Just knowing that 'America disappeared' isn't really enough information. Isn't there anything else that you can tell us?"

Britain thought for a moment before bending down and placing a bag on the table. All the other countries looked with interest as Britain fumbled to pull its contents out. At last, he removed the fighter jacket that the four nations were all too familiar with.

"I found this stuffed in a hole under a tree about a mile past my house. Germany said that he also found Italy's clothes a little closer, but he uncovered all of them. America's jacket was the only thing I found."

"Is it alright if I take a look at it?" Russia asked.

"Umm…sure, if you want." Britain said hesitantly, not sure what Russia was getting at. He walked over and handed the coat to Russia before returning to his place. Russia held up the coat with the back facing away from him as he examined it. Britain, France, and China watched him curiously as he looked it over.

"I don't know why you're so keen on looking at it." France commented, "Anyone can see from a mile away that this is America's jacket!"

"Oh, I know it belongs to him. I could smell from across the table."

"We're wasting time!" Britain insisted. "We need to figure out a way to find out what happened to both Italy and America! If we don't, Germany is almost sure to blame us for Italy's absence since America won't be around to take the blame! " Britain then noticed Russia hold up something between his fingers.

"What's that?" he inquired.

"It's a hair." Russia responded. "I think we should have it analyzed."

"Why would we waste time doing that?" France asked irascibly. "It's obvious who's it is, no?"

"No, actually." Russia replied examining it closely with his violet eyes.

"It's plainly America's!" China groaned. "Can't you take a hint?"

"I don't think so. Doesn't America have, as you say, 'dirty-blond' hair? Well this is reddish-brown."

"What?" Britain exclaimed rushing over to get a closer look. France and China also leaned in to see if Russia was telling the truth. Indeed, the hair was far too dark to belong to America. Not only that, but it seemed as if it couldn't resist curling a little.

"Could that be Italy's hair?" France questioned.

"We'd need to get it to a DNA lab in order to be sure." Britain pulled out a small plastic bag he had on him and placed the hair inside it. "I suggest we adjourn this meeting. If this really does belong to Italy, then we'll have much more knowledge of what happened than we do now. I'll let you all go unless anyone else here has any more suggestions."

"Yeah," China griped. "I liked my idea better!"

"Meeting dismissed then!"

France and China both exited the building as Britain walked over to Russia to take back the coat.

"Well done chap!" Britain nodded to Russia. "This should help a great deal."

"Of course." Russia smiled merrily. He opened his eyes as he spoke again. "But, there is one thing that is a little odd though…"

"Oh?" Britain perked, "What do you mean?"

"Well," Russia lifted America's jacket so that it faced Britain. "Look at the inside of his coat."

Britain looked for a moment, but shook his head. "I-I'm sorry, I don't see anything."

Russia held the coat against his body with one arm and used his other finger to point to what he was referring to.

"Can't you see? The inside of America's jacket is covered in hair."

"…By George, you're right!" Britain exclaimed as he looked on.

"But that's not all." Russia explained. He pointed to the left half. "Can't you see? This side is covered in light, pale hair." Russia pointed to the right half, "While this side only contains dark hair. It's as if something was rubbed off on each side."

"How queer, I can't believe I didn't notice it before!" Britain looked to Russia, "you have quite an eye for detail!"

"Well, when you live in nothing but snow all your life, you tend to notice little things changes like that." Russia smiled innocently.

"I see. Well, I have to get back to London! I need to have this new evidence analyzed right away!"

And without another word, Britain packed the jacket back in the bag and strode out the door. Leaving Russia completely unattended and alone.

"Kolkolkolkolkolkolkolkol…."

* * *

"Dammit!" America swore. "Where the heck did he go?"

"Um…uh…are you sure its ok that we're in here?" Italy asked frightened, shaking at how eerily empty the halls were. "It's really scary and I think I hear some strange noises coming from hall! Ve! We should turn back!"

"Please, don't be such a pussy man!" America belated.

Italy stopped after hearing this comment and looked down at his paws. Then he looked back up at America who had stopped, realizing the moment he said it.

"Ah…erm…"

"You know what I mean!" America threated giving Italy a warning glare.

"Giusto!" Italy acknowledged before continuing behind his companion. For a while, they just ended wandering aimlessly around the building trudging up stairs, through halls, back down stairs, through more halls, finding dead ends, going three flights and on and on and on until America sat down in frustration.

"Ugh! Why does Iggy always play such stupid games with me when I need him?" America fumed, "I want to talk to him after a meeting, he acts all creepy pretending he's talking to fairies and unicorns! I ask him if he wants to go out for a while, I find him hanging with a bunch of pedos in a basement wearing cloaks! Now I want to find him to ask for his help, _and the jerk doesn't even bother running into us once_!"

America was straining himself as he tried to find his happy place. Italy was getting rather scared of the other nation. Not that he hadn't been this whole time, but now America got a bit too scary for Italy to take.

"Don't get upset! I'm sure we'll find help! We just have to keep trying! I'm sure if we run into big brother France, he'll recognize us and help! You know, sometimes Japan comes to visit France! He might be here for us to meet up with! I'm sure he'd be happy to give us a hand! Or maybe even…"

"Ahhh….." came a childish chant from behind the two cats. Italy felt his spine grow cold as he shivered beneath a large shadow that now hovered over them. Shaking and whimpering, the Italian's eyes couldn't help but leak a few tears. Slowly, he turned his head around to see a pair of giant, heavy boots that were taller than him. As Italy lifted his head, a long tan coat came into view and seemed to only get higher and higher until a cream-colored scarf ended its ascent which was wrapped snuggly around a boyish face under a cluster of scruffy pale hair. Italy was shaking so much, it could power a generator.

"Ger….Ger….hel.…many…" he barely managed to whisper from his fright which was almost as colossal as the Russian which towered over him. Tears were coming out in droves as Italy saw that the most terrifying nation, who already towered over him as a country, was now nothing less than Atlas himself. Italy prayed ardently that he wouldn't shrug for fear the world would collapse.

America however only noticed Russia when he heard Italy's whimpering. He turned his head to look behind him as he saw the towering nation.

"What are you two doing here?" Russia said as he bent down and reached a hand out to Italy. Italy felt nothing but cold shoot into his body as the massive hand landed on his head and worked its way down to his tail. This terrifying process repeated itself over and over as Italy's tear floodgates were completely smashed to pieces.

"D-d-d-d-d-doon't ki-iill me-e-e ple—ea-eaease!" he pleaded and he felt the gloved hand against his fur.

"You like that, da?" Russia asked with a small smile on his merry face. He turned to America and looked at him curiously for a moment.

"Oh…but, haven't I seen you from somewhere? You look so familiar, I want to name it, but I just can't quite put my finger on it..."

America saw the chance lying before him and seized it with full force.

"Yo! Russia! It's me man! America! You know, I run all the meetings we have between the Allies! You can't forget me! We did the whole space race through the sixties! And that whole Cold War arm-wrestling deal we duked out before that! Good times, huh?"

Russia reached over and, much to America's surprise picked him up. America didn't like it one bit but he was willing to put up with it if it meant that Russia would recognize him. Sure, he wasn't America's first choice but still, he could think of worse.

"Hmm….It's on the tip of my tongue…if only I could remember…" Russia muttered to himself as he examined America's face.

"Come on dude! You can figure this out! Can't you tell from my glasses? My eyes? My heroic presence? Seriously man, something here's gotta' make the connection click!"

Russia stared at America for a good minute before his face lit up in realization.

"Oh! I know who you are!"

"Awesome man! I knew that you'd get it!"

"You and your friend are those two cats I saw getting off the train earlier today…yes, I'm sure of it!"

America's eyes shrunk and his mouth gaped open in utter disbelieving shock as he heard this. Russia gave a childish laugh before tucking America under his arm and picking the paralyzed Italy up in the other. He held the two against his chest as he smiled to them.

"You two really shouldn't be wandering around a place like this. You could've gotten in trouble if I hadn't shown up."

"I'm in the worst trouble ever right now!" Italy sobbed.

"I think I'll take you two back home with me, da? You like that, Mmn?"

"What?! No!" America wriggled in Russia's grasp. "We've got to get the rest of the stuff as soon as possible! We can't take a vacation to blizzard country!"

Despite whatever America or Italy might've tried, they could never hope to escape Russia's iron grasp. Russia grinned like the child he was inside.

"We will have good fun together." He said as he walked down the halls. "And you both stay with me da? I think that sounds nice."

"Oh hell…." America muttered as his eyes grew as wide as saucers.

"Geermannyyyyyyy….." Italy wept.


	9. The Land of Snow

**I DO NOT own Hetalia or any of its characters.**

**...nor do I claim to own the history of the world :3**

* * *

Now, what was the worst possible thing that had happened since yesterday?

Possibly the fact both himself and Italy had just happened to run into Russia and Russia just decided to bring home a couple of random cats he had run into.

Or maybe that they had both been crammed into the same cat carrier which neither of them could get out of because not only was the metal fence's holes too small, but no amount of human intellect could make up for the fact that cat paws are simply not designed for opening cat carriers.

Even that might not have been enough to overshadow that they had to endure a whole flight from Paris, France to Moscow, Russia with next to no moving space in the cargo hold while passengers overhead were getting free beverages and meals! (that last part really did tick America off personally)

But perhaps the craziest surprise was when they arrived at the airport and were carried outside by Russia. There were three words that could sum up how both countries felt in their prison. Cramped, crazed, and unbelievably COLD!

"Of all the people!" America shivered through clenched teeth. "Why did it have to be Russia that picked us up? It could have been someone with a little sun at their place or maybe by the beach with some hot chicks in yellow-polka-dot bikini's, but oh no! It had to be the coldest country in the world!"

Fortunately for them, Russia had decided to take a cab for their sake. Normally, he would have just walked to the nearest bus station to save money, but he knew the cats were probably a bit chilly. They eventually came to his home, which was a bit out of the way to get to. Russia paid the driver and went inside his beautifully carved wooden home. Inside, it was surprisingly large and warm even though there were no lights or electric heating system. America instantly forgot he was in a cold country when he came inside. Russia went over to the hearth to start a fire. After finishing, he let them both out. America came out on his own, sick and tired of being all cramped up. Italy however had to be dragged out since he was still quite traumatized from being taken by Russia.

"Soon you both warm up, da?" Russia said as he petted Italy gently. Italy wished he would stop choosing to pet him, it terrified him unbearably. America went straight over to the fire and held his forepaws towards it.

"You're not used to my home's cold I see." Russia smiled as he went over to crouch next to America, "You should be happy you have fur coat already. I bet that keeps you warm hmm…?" He giggled as he placed a hand on America's head. America waived a paw defensively at Russia.

"Back off dude! No one belittles America and gets away with it! So hands off pal!"

"Oh, do you want something to eat, sladkiy koshki?"

America turned to Russia and sat down looking him dead in the eye over his glasses.

"No way man! I'm not taking any food from kidnappers like you! Besides, I don't want anything!"

America's gut let out a howling growl. Russia looked down at America's stomach in surprise. America bit his lip as he felt the all too familiar pain in his stomach and shuddered as he resisted showing any sign of his hunger.

"N-no!" he tried convincing himself, "I've got a will of iron! I don't need to be taking charity from some no-good, Rusky—"

His stomach groaned again, this time even louder than before. America felt his face turn a little blue. Half from hunger, and half from the embarrassment of showing it to Russia. Russia gave a juvenile smile and laugh as he closed his eyes in cheer.

"Ah..! I know how to translate that noise from any creature." Russia rose to his feet and went back over to Italy. He laid a hand on him and gave a few pets again.

"And I bring something for you as well, da?"

"Pl-l-lease…Germ-ma-ma-many…Make him…st-t-top…" Italy shuddered as he felt Russia's hand back on him once again. Russia laughed before going into the next room. Before he left the doorway, he looked back and smiled.

"Don't do anything naughty in the meantime, da? I would hate to have to punish such little ones."

He went on into the kitchen. America jumped to his feet when he heard this.

"Little!? Excuse me? Nobody calls Mr. America little! You get right back here before I come there and get you!"

America huffed at that last statement and then walked over to Italy who was still trembling on the floor. He decided not to try and traumatize him any more than he already was. He poked him gently.

"Yo, Italy man!" he said in a somewhat gentler tone, "Come on pal, snap out of it!"

"Rus-s-s-sia's hand….it's going to cru-ru-rush m-me…!"

"Russia isn't even in the room, man! You're going to be fine"

Italy looked to America fearfully, "In Russia's house? Ve! Do you even realize what you're saying?"

"Oh come on! It can't be that bad! I've never heard anyone complain about Russia!"

"At his place," Italy shuddered. "You don't complain about Russia, Russia complains about you! And you'd better not give him a reason to complain!"

"Geez man," America shrugged. "What's with you? What do you have against Russia? Sure he's a little off at times, but he's not that bad!"

"He almost took Germany away from me!" Italy wept, "Germany and his brother were nearly taken by him and I was left all alone! All because of those terrible, cruel Allies who were too selfish to care!"

"And what's that supposed to mean Mr. Axis Power?" America narrowed his eyes as he looked into Italy's face. Italy started shaking with fear, but he did not start apologizing and begging for his life. He just sat there and stuttered.

"Ah…um…well…you see…"

"Vremya, chtoby s"yest' malen'kikh." Russia announced as he came back into the room with a decorative plate of something nice and hot. He set it down in front of the two who looked at it curiously.

"He…." Russia smiled, "I think even little things like you two would want to have something warm after coming here. I had some spare pirozhki in my kitchen, so I warmed it up on the stove and cut it up so it would be easier for you little ones to eat."

"Again with the 'little'! Geez Russia! Have you lost any sense of…! Oh screw it." America walked over and started working some of the pirozhki down. He had to admit, it tasted really good. Italy was too busy being curled up and traumatized.

"You are pretty lucky, da?" Russia chuckled, "These are filled with cooked pheasant. A nice delicacy for you little ones."

"Is it even possible for anything to live up here?" America asked sarcastically, a mouth full of meat. "By the way, it's customary to ask your guests if they'd like a drink ya' know!"

"Would you like something to drink?" Russia asked almost as if on cue. He went back to the kitchen and pulled out two equally decorative saucers and placed them on his red carpeted floor.

"I have drink from my home that always warms one up no matter how cold it gets."

"Oh? And that would be what?" America mockingly asked. "Warm milk? Hot cocoa? Espresso?"

Russia pulled a bottle from his coat and poured it into the two saucers before taking a swing himself. America's jaw dropped as he looked on the bottle. Most of the words were just Russian rubbish, but there was one that he could recognize anywhere.

"Vodka?! One of the strongest and most concentrated alcohols in the world, you are prepared to give to it to cats? What is wrong with you, man?"

"Don't let the smell stop you." Russia encouraged as he nudged a saucer towards America. The fumes were making his glasses murky. Russia rose and started closing the curtains to his windows. America looked at him questioningly.

"Uh…dude, it was already near pitch-black with them open!"

"Ve!" Italy squeaked, "I don't want to be in the dark in Russia's house with Russia ten times my size! Germany!"

"I think it's time to have little light." Russia said gently as he moved through the dark. America was just barely able to follow his motions.

"You close the curtains and then say we need light? You just darkened the room stupid! And I haven't seen one light bulb in this whole house so I'd like to know just how you expect to-"

America never managed to finish his phrase. Russia had walked over to a special box he kept on a shelf and slowly opened it with a hidden key he had pulled out. When the box clicked, Russia opened it up and America had never been so surprised by this country since he had surpassed him by shooting the first man into space.

Russia reached into the box, which was shining like crazy and pulled out a single feather. It was a beautiful flame red feather with bright orange and gold colors in it. But what gave Italy and America a great surprise was how the entire house was being completely lit by it.

Russia placed the feather on a special, candle-like stand and placed it in the middle of the house. "Da! That is much better."

Both countries were gaping at this sight. America was getting a little more freaked out by what he saw.

"A feather?" he exclaimed, "A feather is lighting the entire house? Why haven't I heard of it?!"

"Ve!" Italy gasped in admiration, his fear of Russia moving to the side for a moment. "I think that is the feather of a firebird!"

"A what?" America asked.

"A firebird….a phoenix. Oh, you probably don't know what that is ~Ve! Well you see, a phoenix…"

"Dude, I know what a phoenix is, ok?"

Italy was taken aback. "Ve~! Really? But…but I thought….!"

"I have an entire town in Arizona named after it not to mention I've got a statue of the thing in the middle explaining why it's was named that way! Honestly man, I may be oblivious but I'm not dumb!"

Russia turned to look at the cats. He smiled at their reaction to his treasure.

"He….You looked surprised." He looked at it endearingly and stroked the plume gently with one finger. "I found it not too long ago actually. I was walking along when I saw the great, beautiful firebird rise out of a frozen lake. The lake was as still as glass and had frost forming on it in little patches that looked a bit like flowers. The beautiful thing rose into the air and flew off, but it dropped a feather which I kept. The little thing is so bright that I can light almost my entire house just by placing it here."

"Cool story bro." America nodded.

Russia grabbed a water pipe leaning by the front door and opened up the door letting in unbelievably cold air which instantly turned America into a Popsicle (at least in his mind it did).

"I have to leave little ones. I want to go over and say hi to my good friends, the Baltic States for a little while. You stay here and get warm, da? Do svidaniya!"

Russia slammed the door closed instantly cutting off the current of freezing air. America slowly unthawed once again and went back to eating the pirozkhi.

"Russians are crazy!" He muttered to himself. Italy found himself once again able to move now that Russia was gone. The very first thing that came to his attention was that America was quickly devouring the food that was supposed to be for them both.

"Ve!" He exclaimed rushing over and trying to reach the bowl with his paws. America stuck out one paw and held it against Italy's head, keeping him just out of range. Italy still persisted to reach for the bowl.

"Don't eat it all! I'm hungry too and even eating Russia's food is better than nothing! Anything is better than nothing! Well…except for Britain's cooking, but that's not what's happening right now!"

"Too bad man!" America shrugged. "You didn't get it when Russia set it down, so why would you want it now?"

"He was really scary!" Italy exclaimed. "I can't help it if I'm too frozen up from fear to do anything!"

"Oh well, you snooze you lose! Early bird gets the worm! First come first…."

"The feather might be the next ingredient we need!" Italy shouted.

America looked up in surprise and lowered his paw. "What? Really?"

Italy instantly dove into the bowl and swallowed every last bite (which wasn't much from what America left) of the pirozkhi. America looked at Italy disapprovingly and huffed.

"Not cool, man! Not cool!"

"I'm sorry, but I was so hungry and you weren't sharing!" Italy whined. "But I was telling the truth about the feather."

"If you're screwin' with me again…" America threatened. Italy held his paws over his head.

"Ve! I promise I'm telling the truth!"

"Ok, say I believe ya'" America sat down. "How did you figure that one out?"

"Don't you remember what Russia said to us? He told us that it came from a phoenix that flew out of a lake with frost formed like flowers. And this is a feather from it! A feather from a bird that has swum over a lake of ice flowers!"

When Italy said this, the phoenix feather gave off a glow. It was not the natural shine it was already producing, but rather the blue glow that came as a result from Italy's words. They both saw this as America jumped up and cheered.

"Aw yeah!" he said with a pumped attitude, "Number three is down baby! Whoot!"

"Can we just take it and get out of Russia's home?" Italy shuddered. "I don't want to stick around when he gets back!"

"Yeah, fine. If ya' have to be a wimp about it." America rolled his eyes and went over to the feather's stand. He slammed his head into it as the pole came crashing down. America walked over, picked up the feather with his paws and placed it into the purple sack, cutting off the bright shine. The two wandered to the nearest window and opened the curtains to let in some light.

"Hey America I've been wondering, how come no one seems to notice that sack around your neck?"

"Easy!" America smirked. "I keep it hidden under this scruff of mine!"

"Ah! I see now! It does hide it pretty well."

"Well, that's done! Now how are we supposed to get out of here?" America asked. Italy started panicking.

"You think that we could be stuck in here? Trapped in Russia's house? Oh Germany! Don't let the scary country take me away! I want to see you again Germany! Germany!"

"Chillax dude!" America sighed, "The man doesn't even lock his windows."

It was so ridiculously easy getting out of Russia's house that America felt quite superior for a moment…

…until he felt the weather outside.

"Of course a blizzard kicks up when we want to leave!" America shivered as they both walked through the snow. "Dang! Why doesn't Russia get heat lamps or rent the sun or something'! I mean what the heck?"

"Ve… I think we should find somewhere to hide!" Italy chattered.

"What? Why?"

In the distance, the very faint sound of howls echoed in the air.

"Oh," America said quietly. "That's why…"

The howls suddenly sounded again only this time, they were louder and seemed to have more in the choir.

"Ve! I don't want to be eaten!" Italy leapt onto America who lost his balance as he fell forward. Unfortunately, they were by a steep hill and started snowballing downwards for an entire ten minutes before ramming into solid rock. Snow caked all over their bodies.

"Oww…" Italy moaned as he rubbed his head.

"Gr-great!" America shivered violently. "Th-th-the bli-blizz-z-zard is get-t-ting worse! We n-n-n-ne-need to find shelt-t-ter!"

Italy noticed a little hole leading under the rock face they rolled into, he squeezed in followed by America. They had stumbled upon an empty snow fox burrow which was just large enough to accompany both of them. Italy curled up and shivered.

"V-v-ve… Even Russia's place was better than this."

America curled up next to him. He didn't care about comforting Italy, he just wanted to get warm. Italy buried his face into America's hide, his curl just sticking out from its mass. Muffled, America could just barely hear Italy sniveling.

"Germany….Germany…"

He flattened his ears. Enough was enough.

"Ok man, this needs to stop!"

"Ve?" Italy looked up.

"This whole 'Germany!' whining deal is really starting to tick me off! I'm sick of hearing you calling for him all the time even though he isn't anywhere remotely near nor can he even understand you!"

"Germany is my friend! He'd do anything to help me if he knew I was in trouble!" Italy quaked.

"Well he's not coming this time so shut up! I don't even get why you're so keen on calling him all the time! I mean, what the heck is so great about that jerk?"

"He's my amico! He's kept me safe and done everything to protect me! I can't help but call for him when I get scared! I get so scared of Russia because he almost took him away and I was afraid that I would be alone because I was too weak to do anything!"

"You got yourself stuck in that whole ordeal by siding with that jerk during that war in the first place!" America retorted, "You should be as grateful as you are for that pasta you can't shut up about that I didn't give you a 'one-for' like your two 'friends'!"

Italy stayed silent for a while before slowly speaking again.

"You know…there's something I've wanted to tell you for the longest time! Something that has always been in my mind whenever I see you! I know Germany feels the same way, but he'll never say it to his face out of concern for his dignity, so I'm going to say it right now!"

"What? You gonna' tell me I'm a screw up? Huh? Is that what it is? I only made things miserable and worse by coming in and then pulling out after that stupid war? I didn't even want to get involved in the first place, but you scumbags came and brought it over to me! It wasn't my job fixing you up after the party was over! I get enough of that 'you just can't do things right!' crap from the rest of the Allies, so I don't want to hear it! They wanted to deal with it so I don't want to hear you're griping about how I made everything…

"Grazie!"

America halted his rant the moment this word hit him. He blinked at Italy. "Wh—what?

"Thank you for coming in the end. I really am grateful for that."

"But—but why? What for?" America exclaimed.

"For saving him, for saving Germany!"

"But I…I beat the ever-lovin' daylights out of him! He was barely moving when I was through with the Axis! How do you get the idea that I saved him?"

"Because you saved him from himself!" Italy cried.

"We all had this idea of this world we wanted to create. Germany, Japan, and me, we were all going to change the world into something better! We really believed that was what we were doing and thought it could work. At first, I too thought it was a nice idea, and I was determined to help make it happen."

Italy started recalling the memories of that time, his eyes getting weepier.

"But then things got out of hand! Germany started doing terrible things and Japan went right along with him. We were hurting so many people and causing so much pain! I wanted it to end, I wanted to tell Germany to stop, but I was too weak and couldn't bring myself to go against my friend! I could only watch helplessly as he starting hurting others around him and destroying the world!"

Italy shook as his eyes leaked tears onto the dirt below him.

"But the worst part of it was that I could see that Germany was suffering too, but some evil force was pushing him onward, keeping him from stopping and letting it end! It was killing him, I could see it in his eyes. It was like watching a horse being whipped to pull a mountain and seeing it slowly bleed and work itself to death. The other Allies tried to stop him, but he had just gotten too strong for his own good! I knew that if it continued, he would ultimately die and I would lose my friend! I don't think I ever felt so helpless and alone in all my life!"

Italy looked to America as he smeared his tears across his face with his paws.

"And then you finally came into the war. You came and put an end to it all. Si, it hurt to see you come. It hurt to watch you beat Germany like you did. It took him so long before he finally recovered and even now, I think he'll always be scarred from that war.

But when he finally did get his strength back, when he finally was able to stand on his own again, that terrible force that had possessed him before was gone. He was his old self again. He even managed to start smiling again after little while. Yet even after the war and after he came back, Germany had so much guilt and regret bottled up inside of him. He tried to let the world know he was sorry, but everyone shunned him. They looked at him as if he was some kind of monster, not realizing that he had not been aware of his actions at the time.

So I stayed with him to remind him that he still had a friend! Even if it was only a weak, useless coward, I had to stay with him and remind him that he was not alone! I needed to make him understand that he could be forgiven and it wasn't all his fault. I know that it probably didn't do much, but sometimes I like to imagine that in a way, I kept hope in his heart. I like to think that I was actually useful for once and brought smiles to his face. But I know that I probably just annoyed him to pieces.

Germany is and always will be my friend. He does more for me than I'll ever do for him, but I still want to try! And maybe someday, I'll do something good for him."

America slightly gaped at Italy as he was crying like a little child. He wasn't whining or moaning, he was just crying. America started feeling bitterness nip at his heart. He looked to Italy who was wiping his tears as best he could with both his paws.

"Hey, I know I'm not Germany…and I'm not your ally…and I make you scared but…" he reached out a paw. "You think a bro-hug would make you feel any better?"

Italy looked up from his paws which were now soaking wet. "Ve…" He scooted on his two legs to America as America wrapped a paw around the tender little nation. Italy continued to try and dry the hot tears coming from his face. America looked at the cold blowing outside and turned to Italy.

"Listen…look at me…" America said seriously. Italy obeyed feebly.

"I don't know how long this might take. I don't know how hard getting the rest of this stuff might be, but know this. You're going to get back to normal and you're going to get back to Germany! You hear me? You're going to be just fine!"

"R-really?" Italy sniffed.

"I'd stake my life on that promise!"

Italy managed to smile through his tears and hugged America's torso in heartfelt gratitude.

"Grazie."


	10. Rising Tensions

**I DO NOT own Hetalia or any of its characters.**

**...nor do I claim to own the history of the world :3**

* * *

Estonia tried to stop the tray from shaking as he placed the tea in front of his intimidating house guest. Latvia was shaking in the corner next to Lithuania who was having trouble to stop from trembling as well.

"It was so nice of you to visit us Mr. Russia." Estonia tried to smile. Russia grinned back.

"Yeah. I thought I would come and see my good friends. After all, that's what good friends do, da?"

"Well, I think really good friends might give a message before coming to someone's house." Latvia squeaked. Estonia and Lithuania's faces went into shock.

"You idiot! You want to get us crushed?" Lithuania hissed at Latvia. "You don't say something like that to Russia! Especially when he comes to visit!"

"I'm sorry!" Latvia cried, "I didn't mean it Mr. Russia! I like having your intimidating presence hovering over me like a shadow of ultimate destruction in which I can tremor and hope to pass out from fright before you do anything to me!"

"Ohh!" Estonia and Lithuania quaked in dread. "Shut up!"

"Haa….." Russia smiled gently as he took the cup of tea and drank it quietly. He set down the saucer and closed his eyes in delight as he faced the Baltic States.

"Lithuania…" The long, brown-haired nation jumped when he heard his name. "You were friends with America for a while weren't you?"

"Oh, Mr. America?" Lithuania bit his lip. If there was one nation he always tried to avoid talking about to Russia, it was America. But now Russia was bringing it up and asking him to talk about it. "Um…well, yes. I did stay at his house, but only for a short time. I mean, it's much better to be protected by a stronger nation with more maturity Mr. Russia."

"Hey didn't America beat Russia to the moon shortly after you came back?" Latvia asked Lithuania. Estonia and Lithuania cringed and slammed their hands over Latvia's mouth while fretting like crazy.

"Why did you have to bring up the space race? You know Russia hates anyone mentioning that time!"

The three felt a terrible chill crawl into their backs and they looked to Russia. His back was facing them, but their faces turned blue as they saw the aura emanating around him like a black-purple mist.

"He didn't mean it Mr. Russia! He was only trying to recall the glorious moment when you sent the first man into space! That itself was a great accomplishment! In fact if you hadn't done it first, I don't think America could have ever landed on the moon first!"

Lithuania trembled when he realized what he said. Russia stood up, letting loose an even more terrifying aura then before. He turned to look at the Baltic nations with a childlike expression as his aura faded.

"I just remembered I have two cats waiting at home. I need to go back so I can make sure they are alright. Is that alright with you tri?"

"Oh, of course Mr. Russia!" Estonia quickly replied, "We wouldn't want to do anything to keep you from an important task like that! You feel free to do whatever you want! We don't mind in the least!"

"He…" Russia smiled, "It's good to know I have such good friends, da?"

Russia calmly left the house carrying his pipe out with him. The Baltic States let out sighs of relief once he was gone.

"Were you trying to get us all killed?" Estonia barked at Latvia.

"I'm sorry! It's his presence! I just can't think straight when he's around! His eyes alone burn holes into my skull which all my sense and reason leaks out of!"

"Then why do you say anything at all?" Lithuania chastised. "Well, at least he's gone. I better go clean up after him."

"I need a cup of coffee after a fright like that." Estonia muttered holding his head as the migraine began settling in.

Lithuania was busy cleaning about an hour after Russia left when he came to the front hall. He noticed something hanging on the rack.

"What? That doesn't belong to me. It looks too big for Latvia and I'm pretty sure I've never seen Estonia wear it unless…Dieve! It's Russia's coat isn't it?" Lithuania started gripping his broom tighter.

"That means he's going to have to come back here to pick it up! But maybe I can go over to his house and give it to him. No, I can't do that! I can barely stand having him here! But he hardly ever forgets his coat, how could he just leave it. Wait, he left it on purpose didn't he? He did leave it on purpose! And now he's going have an excuse to come back!"

Just as Lithuania was thinking this to himself, the doorbell rang. He jumped and stared at in in fear.

"S-so soon?" he trembled. He slowly reached for the door and opened it up bowing so low he could only see his own boots if he had his eyes open.

"I'm terribly sorry for earlier! I haven't finished cleaning so I hope you're not offended in any way!"

"I say chap, I know I was uninvited, but It's not all that dear…"

Lithuania opened his eyes and looked up. A blonde haired, bushy browed nation stood in front of him looking at him in confusion.

"You…You're not Russia!"

"Uh…last I checked, no. I'm just Britain." He rubbed the back of his head, "Listen if this is a bad time…"

"No! No!" Lithuania exclaimed gesturing for Britain to come in. "I just didn't expect you to appear on my front doorstep. But it is a pleasant surprise!"

"Oh, well thank you." Britain said as he stomped off the snow from his boots and entered the house. He turned to Lithuania.

"I'm actually just here to ask a few questions. You spend time with America didn't you?"

"Uh, Mr. America?" Lithuania blinked. "Well yes I did stay at his house for a while, but I had to come back after he went broke. You know, during the 1930's."

"The Great Depression. Yes, yes." Britain nodded. "Did he ever confide anything to you? Information, personal feelings?"

"Well, he did tell me that he had trouble throwing away some sentimental things at one time, but not anything extraordinary. Why do you ask?"

Britain sighed. "It's probably going to go public if it gets worse anyway so you should know. America has gone missing."

"What?" Lithuania gasped, "Disappeared? How? When?"

"Nearly a month ago actually, just vanished into thin air. The only trace we have of him is his coat. Not only that but Italy is missing too and Germany is blaming his absence on America. Of course, he takes America's lack of appearance as a sign that he's hiding something. We're trying to do all we can to find them both, but so far there's been little luck."

"That's terrible!" Lithuania frowned. "I wish I could help you, but I just can't think of anything that would be useful to you."

"Well, it was worth a try." Britain tried to smile. "Just let me know if anything…"

Britain noticed the coat hanging on the rack.

"Is Russia here?" he asked pointing to the coat. Lithuania turned to see what he was referring to.

"Huh? Oh no, I'm sorry. He was here, but left about an hour ago. He must've forgotten his coat before leaving. He'll probably be back to pick it up later on."

Britain got a closer look at it and noticed that his coat was dirtier than it had been at the meeting. It had some hair covering it. Not only that, but it was also divided into two shades. One was darker and red while the other was light and blonde. Very much like what was on the inside of America's jacket.

"What's this?" Britain asked.

"It looks like hair. Short hair at that." Lithuania noticed. "Oh yes! I remember Russia mentioning something about having to go back home to care for two cats. It's probably just cat hair."

Britain looked at Lithuania curiously. "Russia keeps animals in his house?"

"I guess," Lithuania shrugged before holding a finger to his chin. "But you know, I've never heard him mention having cats ever before. He might have gotten them recently."

Britain pulled out some small evidence bags and took a couple of samples of both hairs from Russia's coat. He turned back to Lithuania.

"Hey, do you know where Russia was headed when he left."

"I think he was on his way home. He should be there by now."

"Well then, I'll think I'll pay him a little visit. I'd like to see these new cats of his." He started to leave when Lithuania stopped him and grabbed Russia's coat.

"IF you're going to Russia's place, do you think you could take this to him?" he asked while handing Britain the coat. "I would hate for him to waste time coming all the way over here just to get that."

"Sure thing dear fellow!" Britain nodded. "I'll be sure to get it to him!" and with that, he left. Lithuania went back into the house and began cleaning with a much cheerier mood now that he knew that Russia's excuse for coming back was going to be delivered to his house.

* * *

Russia walked through the grocery store as he picked out various ingredients. He was never a believer in packaged cat food, or packaged anything for that matter. He liked, as many Russians, to make meals by hand, even if it was for cats.

"I think I'll get beef da? That seems like good enough for those little ones."

He picked up some cheap meat, root vegetables, and a few other items and headed to the checking counter with his typical smile. The equally gentle-smiling Russian woman checked out his items, oblivious to who he really was, and gave his total. Russia paid his fee and went to wait at the bus stop.

"I wonder how those little one's are in that big house of mine? They better not have gotten into any trouble while I was away."

"Russia?" came a voice.

Russia turned to see a familiar face come out of a car coated in snow. The man waived his hand motioning for Russia to come.

"Britain?" Russia asked as he came over to his Allied nation. "What are you doing here?"

"I actually had just come from the Baltics place. I wanted to ask Lithuania a couple questions and decided to give you a visit. Oh by the way, you left your coat at their house so I took it so I could give it back to you."

"Ah…." Russia smiled. "That was very kind of you Britain. Bol'shoye spasibo."

"Any time!" Britain scuffed his foot in the snow. "By the way, Lithuania said that you mentioned needing to care for a couple of cats. Is that so?"

"Da," Russia nodded, "I actually found them after our meeting. They were wandering around the building, so I took them back with me."

"They were wandering around the meeting building?" Britain blinked. "How the bloody hell did they get in there?"

"No idea, but whatever the case, I need to get back home to them."

"Well then," Britain offered, "Let me give you a lift!"

Russia accepted the offer and the two sped towards Russia's home. It was dark when they arrived, and Russia worked the lock into the key and opened the front door. However, the moment he saw how dark and cold it was inside, he knew something was wrong.

"Someone has broken into my home." He said simply. Britain stepped back as Russia's aura began emanating from his body. Even the supernatural wizard Britain couldn't help but fear the Russian's demeanor. He quickly lit an oil lamp in the corner and noticed a window slightly open.

"That window is open, you think that perhaps it was used?"

"But my windows don't open wide enough for even children to get through. It would've had to have been something small like say…"

"A cat?" suggested Britain.

"Yeah, like a….wait, where are those little ones?"

"I think that they might have been the ones that did this." Britain suggested pointing to the window. Russia could see little paw prints against the pane and frost collecting around the ones they left in the house.

"Poor little things." Russia sighed, "They wouldn't have lasted for an hour out there."

Russia closed the window and lit a fire in the hearth. He lit a few oil lamps he kept stored and proceeded to put away his groceries. Britain was getting the vibe that he wasn't exactly welcome in that particular moment and excused himself.

"Uh, I have some pressing business back in London. Please let me know if you learn anything alright."

"Da, I do that." Russia replied stiffly.

Britain got into his car and sped off through the Russian snow.

* * *

Italy yawned and rubbed his eyes. He looked over to America who was still deep in slumber. Italy was about to wake him when he heard a rumbling sound come from America. He looked at him in surprise and was pretty sure he recognized that noise from regular cats. Curious, he placed a paw behind America's ear and started to scratch as best he could. The rumbling sound got louder and Italy knew without a doubt that America was purring. Italy watched as America smiled pleasantly and swayed his fluffy tail around. He mumbled in his sleep.

"Hmm...That's right baby, squirt that ketchup…all over my hot dog…you gorgeous woman who works in a fast food restaurant."

"He he! I wonder how he's going to react when he finds out." Italy chuckled. Curious, he watched as America rolled onto his back. Italy instantly jumped on his stomach much as Romano would do with Spain when he was younger. America sat up instantly and shouted in surprise.

"Gak! Don't jump on me like that!" America barked. "I was having an awesome dream too…"

"Oh I could tell!" Italy smiled waiving his tail in anticipation, "You were purring like my cars back home!"

"Well if you could tell I was enjoying myself, then why's you…" America's eyes flung open and his face turned red. He looked to Italy.

"I do_ not_ purr!"

Italy smiled and waved a paw at him. "Are you sure?"

America turned his head and stuck his nose in the air. "Humph! I might be stuck in this body, but I'm not as weak willed as you to start even acting remotely like a…!"

Italy reached up and started scratching America behind his ears. America almost melted from the pleasure he got from the sensation.

"Oh…oh…" his eyes went all wistful and he started rumbling like a motorboat. Suddenly, he realized what he was doing and smacked Italy's paws away. His face was bright red.

"D-don't do that again!" He flustered, "And don't you dare tell anyone about this when we get back!"

"It's ok!" Italy smiled, "You don't have to worry!" He turned to look out of the hole. "Ve! I think it's calmed down since last night!" He crawled out of the hole to look around. America watched him go. Once Italy was outside, America slowly brought his paw up to his ear and started to slowly scratch. The moment he did, his eyes fell back into their dreamy state.

"Holy crap, that's magnificent! Oh…oh sweet baby, yes! Yes!"

America couldn't help it, he let out the string of hearty purrs from his throat as he felt this wondrous sensation. He was snapped back to reality when he heard Italy call for him. He shook his head straight and crawled out of the hole.

"Ve~! What we're you doing in there?" Italy asked. America went red.

"None of your business!" He shouted. Italy just smiled understandingly.

"You we're purring again weren't you?" he grinned.

America only got redder. "Shut up!" he puffed. "Anyway, do we have any idea where to go? Preferably somewhere with more sun!"

"Well, we could go south. It should still be warm down there." Italy suggested thinking of his own home.

"Fine by me!" America nodded. They both made their way through the snow, but unfortunately between the indistinguishable blanket of snow (which nearly buried them when they walked through it) and the strange land they were in, it was impossible to tell which was north and which was south.

"Well, this was a nice plan until it backfired!" America groaned after they had wandered around aimlessly for a while. Now what?"

"Ve! Wait a minute!" Italy looked over a ledge to see a river not far away. It flowed gently along since the water level was low in the winter.

"Let's go by river!" Italy suggested. "The rivers flow to the south and we'll have a rest because of it!"

"Ok, sounds good to me!"

The both of them set about to finding a boat. Lucky enough, there was a little shack not far off which had a little boat tied to the dock. America chewed right through it and soon the two of them were floating along the river with ease. They floated along the Oka River until it flowed into the Volga which sailed south towards the Caspian Sea.

Unfortunately, they were unaware that the waters were travelling by were going to get very rough later on.

* * *

Britain removed his coat and went into the elevator. He pressed a certain sequence of the elevator buttons which opened up an entirely different keypad from the wall. He entered the code and was asked to give a finger and eye scan. He gave it promptly and listened as the elevator went down the special shaft that was reserved for private personnel only.

The elevator opened up and he walked into a room filled with all kinds of information and global observation devices. It was only to be expected of course considering that he did just walk into one of the top bases of the British secret intelligence. Everyone acknowledged him promptly as he went by.

Meanwhile, a young man behind one of the computers noticed him pass by and how much attention he got. He leaned over to the man sitting next to him.

"Pardon me William but, who is that bloke?"

"Him? You don't know? Oh, that's right you haven't been here for long. Well you see, that's Mr. Britain."

The young man looked back to the country. "A code name huh? I suppose I'm not supposed to know his actual name then."

"Oh, that is his actual name." the older man replied.

"Really? Who is he?"

The older man smiled, "Why that's our beloved nation, the Great Britain himself!"

"Uh…" the young man cocked his head, "I don't follow you."

"No matter," the older man said patting him on the back, "You soon will. I was just as confused as you are when I first meet him."

Britain marched to the DNA testing area where the hair and jacket were being analyzed. "Well?" he asked, "What do we know?"

"Not much unfortunately" replied a scientist. "The hair we found definitely belongs to Mr. Italy and Mr. America, but other than that, we can't tell much else. The hair is the only evidence we have. There's no blood or any sign of struggle."

"Hmm…" Britain thought. He pulled out the samples with him. "I want you to test this hair as well. How soon can you have the results?"

"Four days. Three if things go smoothly."

"Right, let me know as soon as you get the results."

* * *

"Germany-san, I don't know if speaking to my onee-chan is a very good idea."

"I know, it probably is a foolish proposition but, I think that it would be best to try and solve this as calmly as we can. I don't want to do anything rash unless we know our enemy has done something to give us cause to fight back. The Allies just recently came back from a meeting in Paris. I am going to try and talk to France to see if he will tell me anything. However, I would like you to ask China what he knows as well."

"I think that they will be rather suspicious of our interest in their knowledge." Japan noted.

"Ja, I know. However, no one is as good as sensing the mood as you Japan. I want you to go over and ask a few questions. Don't get to invasive, but try to get a vague idea of what happened and what they know. Even a little information is better than nothing."

"Hai." Japan nodded, "I agree with that statement Mr. Germany."

"Gut." Germany nodded. "I will contact you in a few weeks to ask for a briefing of what you know. Right now, the best thing we can do is gather Intel."

"Very well. I will try to do my best. Sayōnara."

"Ja." Germany replied. "Auf Wiedersehen."

Japan left Germany's office and made his way downstairs. Germany sat down and rubbed his brow. It had been nearly two months since Italy disappeared and Germany felt as if he wasn't any closer to finding him.

"Damn!" He thought to himself. "I feel so worthless. I know that I'm missing something. Something is right in front of my face, but I just can't grasp it. I almost feel like Italy had walked up to me and I just completely failed to see him. The Allies are probably getting ready for Armageddon and I'm barely any closer than I was when I started. The only thing that could make this worse…."

"Where is he?! Where is the potato-eating bastardo!?"

Germany looked up as he heard an all too familiar cursing voice echo down the hall. A silhouette of a head with a curl sticking out came against the glass of his office door. Germany wanted to pretend it was Italy outside, but he knew better than that. He looked with a strained face as the less pleasant Italian brother slammed the door open.

"There you are!" Romano shouted raising a fist threateningly. "Alright enough games you jackass! Tell me where mi fratello is!"

"I don't know." Germany answered honestly. Romano slammed his hands on Germany's desk.

"Porcheria! I know that idiot likes to spend every waking moment with you! I'll never know why, but you better tell me where he is! Even if he does prefer spending time with you, he never ignores me for so long! What have you done to him?!"

"I haven't done anything!" Germany replied defensively. "Italy has disappeared!"

"Che cosa?!" Romano exclaimed starting to smack Germany on the head (it didn't really do anything) "And you didn't tell me?! What the hell is wrong with you bastardo?! I'm his brother dammit! I should know firsthand when my idiot little brother is in trouble!"

"Listen." Germany said as patiently as he could. "We are trying everything we can to get him back. He's been gone for nearly two months, but there's been little we can go on to find…"

"Lasci perdere! It's pointless depending on potato bastards like you! I'll find him myself without your help!"

With that, Romano turned and slammed the door to his office closed as he left.

"Wait! Be careful! We had the halls cleaned today! They're still…!"

Germany could hear the sound of Romano slipping and crashing into the floor swearing up a storm that would make even the most proficient sailor gasp.

"...wet." Germany finished.

He sighed. Romano might have been little more than a shouting swear machine, but he was right. Germany hadn't done anything useful in finding Italy. It's just, he didn't know what to do. There was literally nothing to go on. No footage, no trails. Nothing.

Germany smoothed his pale blonde hair back. "I hope Japan is able to find something out. I don't think I'll be able to get much out of that kraut France."

* * *

America and Italy were lying almost dead at the bank of the Caspian Sea. They had sorely miscalculated how smoothly the trip would have gone. They had run into some terrible rapids that had nearly sucked them under and banged them to pieces. America had barely managed to drag Italy to the shore before collapsing from exhaustion. They lay there completely exhausted and immobile.

It just so happened that some poachers were stopping by the shores to rest before heading into China. One of the men noticed the two lying on the beaches. He came over and very carefully (he was used to dealing with vicious animals) examined them.

"Hey! These two are still alive!" He grabbed them by the scruff of their neck and brought them over to the rest of the crew.

"What are they?" one guy asked.

"They look like regular cats!" spat another. "How are we supposed to make money with those?"

"Hey!" retorted the many carrying them, "They won't eat much and if they die, they die. Hell, we might be able to get a nice price for them. They might be worth something in the right hands!"

The others looked at each other and nodded. "Ok fine, we'll add them to the cargo. Just lock them in one of the spare cages. If they eat more than a cup, they're more trouble than they're worth."

The man nodded and threw Italy and America into the cage and strung them up on top of the cargo of wild and stolen domestic animals. They all got into their vehicles and sped off to China's place unaware of just what valuable cargo they had picked up.

* * *

Four days later, Britain got a call from the base.

"Hello? Do you have anything yet?"

"Yes actually, we double checked to make sure we were doing it right, but there's no doubt about it. The materials you gave us are just more samples of the same hair. We found both Mr. Italy and Mr. America's DNA in the samples you gave us. They're the exact same. Where did you get them?"

"From Russia's…coat…"

Britain instantly slammed the phone back into the holder and began switching the numbers he needed. The phone rang for a moment or two before a voice picked up.

"Is this the British ambassador?" Britain asked.

"Speaking." The voice replied.

"Listen, I'm going to need you to board some men I'm sending over. They're going to be working on investigations over there. I've got some suspicions about our Russian comrade. Don't let any news of this leak out understood?"

"Yes sir."

"Good."

The phone was slammed back on its holder. Britain's great eyebrows furrowed as he let out a breath through clenched teeth in frustration.

"What the hell is going on? What's happened to you America?"


	11. Where the Sun Sets and Rises

**I DO NOT own Hetalia or any of its characters.**

**...nor do I claim to own the history of the world :3**

* * *

America woke up when he was painfully thrown against something hard. He slowly got to his feet and tried to clear his vision.

"Whe-Where am I?" he mumbled to himself. His vision was blurry, he realized he wasn't wearing his glasses. Suddenly his memory came back to him.

"I…Me and Italy were in a boat going down south on a river when there was…" America paused as he recalled what had happened. "That's right…to rapids, the rocks…"

He looked around. He could tell he was in an enclosure of some kind, but his sight was all blurry. He heard some noise and looked over to another cage. He saw something moving in it that resembled a cat.

"Italy? Hey Italy man is that you?" He asked. He came close to his cage's edge and looking through the bars. The cat entity in the enclosure next to him paced back and forth. America guessed it was from panic and such.

"Hey Italy is that you? Man, either you've gotten big or my sight is really getting bad!" America suddenly remembered that he had removed his glasses on the boat and put them into the pouch around his neck when he slept on the boat. He sat down, his hind spread out as he reached in the sack with his paws.

"Should be somewhere in…Ah! There you are!" America pulled out his spectacles and noticed the lenses were smudged so he breathed on them. He swung his tail to his side, picked it up with a paw and used it to rub the spectacles clear. Once he finished, he slid them back on his face and blinked a couple times from his new clarity.

"Ah!" he smiled, "Much better! Now Italy, do you know where we…"

As America looked towards the cage he thought held Italy, he was quite shocked to find massive claws reaching for him.

"Holy freedom fries!" He jumped ramming his back onto the far end of his cage. A huge tiger was across from him roaring furiously as he tried to grab hold of the little cat. America's heart thumped in his chest as he saw the beast give up the endeavor and yawn, showing his five inch mandibles.

"Preeeeetty sure that's not Italy!" America said to himself.

"Ve! I'm over here!" Italy announced. America turned around to see Italy's curled head smiling at him. Italy grinned and started laughing gently. America's raised an eyebrow.

"What's so funny?"

"Behind you!" Italy covered his mouth with his paws as if that was going to stop the chuckles he was emitting. "Your tail! It looks like you stuck it into an electric socket or something!"

America flatted his ears in annoyance. "Well excuse me for nearly getting my face clawed off by Godzilla tiger over there!"

America sat down like before and tried to smooth his tail fur back to normal. It wasn't as easy as it looked.

"Where are we anyway? Last I remember we were going down a river, but then we had issues and got caught up in the torrent!"

"Ve~. That's all I remember too!" Italy frowned.

America looked about him carefully and noticed his surroundings. They were on some kind of moving vehicle which had a canvas tarp-covered back. There were a variety of animals around them. Some were clearly wild (as if the tiger hadn't given that away) and some looked more domestic like sheep and various birds.

"I suppose we must have been picked up by someone and put into these cages! My guess is they're dealing in the black market!" America deducted.

"Ve!" Italy shuddered in his cage. "We're captives of bad men! What are they going to do with us? I don't want to get hurt!"

"Calm down bro!" America reassured. "They wouldn't have bothered to take us just to knock us around. My guess is they're going to sell us somewhere, but if only I knew where we were going!"

Suddenly, the two felt the van come to a halt. The animals were getting a little worked up as soon as they noticed. Italy shook and reached a paw pleadingly towards America through the bars of his cage.

"Ve! What's going on? Why are they acting like this?" he cried.

"Don't look at me man!" America shrugged. "I've got no clue!"

They heard the sound of some men coming in and saw them throwing food around to different animals. Mostly the larger ones and the livestock. America pricked his ears as he heard their conversation.

"Wǒ shēngbìngle qímǎ tōngguò shāmò hé wūgòu yǔ zhèxiē āng zāng de dōngxi! Wǒmen shénme shíhou cáinéng bǎituō tāmenle ma?" one asked.

"Wǒmen yǐjīng dédàole yī xiǎo huì er, dàn wǒmen yīnggāi zuì chí zài běijīng shíjiān míngtiān xiàwǔ dàodá." Replied the other.

The men finished their job of handouts and went for their own meal. America scooted the food they had given him to the side of the cage. It was raw meat that smelt rather bad.

"Geez! Haven't these guys heard of E. coli? But did you hear their conversation?"

Italy nodded. "What were they saying?" he asked.

"No idea! But I'm pretty sure I heard 'Bejing' mixed in the works, so I guess that's where we're going!"

"Ve…" Italy trembled. "Germany…"

* * *

"I see," Germany sighed. "Well, sorry for the trouble, I appreciate you're cooperation."

"Pas de problem." France replied patting the other on the back. "I would have done the exact same thing in your situation! After all, I would simply die if anything happened to my little Italy."

"I don't think we're worried about him for the same reasons." Germany thought to himself. He made his way to the door of France's home.

"Well, please let me know if you find where he is. I don't want any trouble if there is nothing going on."

"Je comprends!" smiled France. "You have a safe trip home!"

"Ja. I will."

As soon as Germany shut the door, France scowled and walked away.

"Dieu merci! That German swine is finally out of my house! Honestly, I can't believe he had the nerve to bring his disgusting, wurst smelling self over to my magnifique home and interrogate me as if it was the Spanish Inquisition!"

"Just ignore it. Focus on your goal." Germany muttered to himself as he listened. He had managed to place a compact microphone on the back of France's cloak. It was under the hood flap so that no one would notice and it was too small to feel offhand.

Germany knew that France wasn't going to tell him much, but perhaps if he listened secretly, he might find something out. As he walked down the cobblestone pathways of Paris, he listened carefully to what France was saying with the hearing device he just placed in his left ear.

"Ugh, this whole matter is giving me a headache!" he heard France complain on the other end. "I'd better call Britain back and see what he wants."

"That's right." Germany thought to himself. "Britain had called in the middle of our discussion, but France had told him to call back since I was present. I wonder what he wanted to talk about."

"Allo? Oui Britain it is moi, France. Sorry about before but Germany was present at my house."

Germany was afraid that for a minute the microphone would not be powerful enough to pick up Britain's voice on the phone. But he was relieved when he could just barely make out what he was saying.

"What the devil did that wanker want at your place frog?" Britain asked.

"Not sure, but it seemed as if he wanted to get information on what we discovered. By the way, how is the investigation going?"

"Investigation?" Germany perked. "So they really have no idea where they are? I guess it was wrong of me the accuse them. But I'll listen and see what else they have to say."

"Jolly rotten that's how it's going!" Britain came back on the line. "The hair samples from America's coat were from Italy and America no doubt, but our scientists say that there is no evidence of struggle or injury from either of them. I just can't bloody comprehend what could've possibly happened!"

"They are testing America's jacket? Italy's DNA was found?" Germany grew more intrigued at the conversation and listened intently. "Perhaps America is at fault after all."

"But there's something even worse." Britain continued. "It's Russia."

Germany froze when he heard the countries name.

"It seems that I found some hair samples from Russia's coat when I went to visit the Baltics. We had it tested and the results confirm that there are samples of both America and Italy's hair. Russia claims that it came from cats that he said to have picked up from our meeting, but no one has seen these 'cats' , so I have my suspicions."

"Oui." France responded. "It sounds a little sketchy to me as well."

"Scheiße!" Germany swore as he removed the headphone from his ear. He marched to the nearest taxi and slammed the door as he got in.

"Take me to the airport immediately!" he barked at the driver. The man instantly jumped at the wheel when he heard the German's harsh demands.

"When is the next flight to Russia?" Germany demanded.

"How should I know? I know the streets of Paris, not the flights of the world!"

"Damn!" Germany banged his fist on the car door. So Italy was in Russia's grasp? That was even worse than thinking America was responsible unless…

…was America collaborating with Russia? And Italy was in the middle of it!

"Step on it! Jetzt! " He ordered.

* * *

America watched as they entered the outskirts of Bejing under the cover of night. This was how the poachers operated, they would hide in a covert, but relatively close area to their destination. They would attend to the customers who already made their orders and purchases and then proceed to sell off the rest by wheeling and dealing in the city's less watched over areas. The animals prowled around vigorously as America and Italy were barely able to stay awake.

"I can't understand what they're saying," America said to Italy, "But I know that this is as good a time as any to bust out of this joint!"

"Ve? How are we going to do that?" Italy asked.

"You do nothing, I the hero will get us out with no problem!"

"Are you going to try and break the cage?" Italy asked. America gave his heroic smirk.

"No need! This isn't a cat carrier and these aren't' exactly first class enclosures!"

America was right. While the poachers had put locks on some of the more dangerous and deadly merchandise, the rest had just snap or slide locks. And fortunately, the space between the bars was plenty large enough for America's entire forearm to reach out and fumble with the lock.

"Let's see…if I slide this like so, and snap this up like that, then it should…Ah! Presto!"

America pushed the door to his cage open proudly and strut out. "Easy as apple pie! Of course it wasn't a challenge for a hero like myself!"

"Bene!" Italy cheered. "Now can you get me out?"

"Sure! Just wait a sec." America came over and undid the lock for Italy's cage. It went a lot faster since America didn't have to work it from the outside. Soon Italy sprung out of his cage and bounced around in glee.

"Aiamo fuori! Siamo fuori! evviva!" he sang out loud. The two of them nearly jumped out of their skin when the tiger next to America's cage gave a terrible growl and banged against his metal bars. America smiled and motioned to the open cages.

"See that big guy? That's what happens when you have super computer-like brain like me! Now let's get out of here!"

"Ve!" Italy agreed as the two cats leapt out of the vehicle and ran towards the city lights of nighttime Beijing.

It wasn't long before they entered the city and were overwhelmed by the crowds, lights and, the excitement.

"Whoah! China's place is hoppin'! No wonder the Chinatowns at my place are so crazy! They came from this place!"

"Where should we go?" Italy asked. "I don't want to get stepped on like this!"

"No problem bro! We just have to find an old memorial-like building and go there! Crowds seem to calm down when around those kinds of places!"

"Ve! I'll bet there's a shrine of some kind in the city! China is really closely related to Japan so my guess is that he's got someplace special like a memorial or something!"

"Great! Let's look for that." America smiled, but then started thinking about it. "Uh, how do we know what to look for?"

"Uh…" Italy blushed. "I guess we'll know it when we see it. We just have to look for something that looks special. Something that stands out. Something…something just like that!"

Italy rushed towards a big red shrined that was off limits to the general public. America followed and they watched the guards walk around the grounds outside.

"Maybe we'll be good just staying outside here."

"Ve! Look! It's Japan!"

Indeed it was. Japan was walking with a few of his men as an escort towards the great red, ancient designed building. He bowed to the gatekeepers and spoke to them.

"He's speaking in Japanese!" America noted. "But it's still hard for me to make out what he's sayin'!"

"Don't worry! I'll be able to tell you!" Italy listened intently. His curl waiving gently in the air.

"He's asking to have an audience with China. He says he has important things to ask him!"

"He wants to ask China somethin'!" America blinked. "Ha! What could China possibly know that would be of any use to anybody?"

"I don't know, but I'm curious! I say we sneak in!"

"Sounds cool bro!" America shrugged. "I'm all for it!"

Getting in the grounds and getting into the shrine was so ridiculously easy, it almost made America want to cry. The guards practically let them by especially when they saw Italy.

"Dude! This is totally far-out! It's like they actually want us in here!"

"Well Japan told me that once that cats, especially calico cats, are signs of good luck in Japan and they became very popular at his big brother China's place too! I guess they think having us around is good luck!"

"HAHAHAHAHAHA!" America laughed. "Little do they know, it's us who have the good luck in this deal!"

"Si!" Italy smiled wriggling his tail. The two clambered inside. "But, I think we should still try to stay out of sight when we're inside."

"Sweet plan bro! I hear ya! Now let's do this!"

* * *

"You know it is very rude to come without invitation!" China frowned. "You best be grateful I let you in at all, Aru!"

"Hai. I understand." Japan said simply while he bowed respectfully to his older brother. They both sat on their knees at a table across from each other. The room they were in was ridiculously large and copious. The inside was painted red with black pillars holding up the roof. At the very end, there was an enormous green statue of a Chinese dragon all twisted and curled against the back wall. China huffed in irritation.

"Why you come at all? You never have time to see me since you went along with those western children you call allies!"

"Well, you see it is like this." Japan explained very calmly showing not even the faintest glimmer of emotion. "I have heard some distressing news from several sources about tensions rising in the western world. I have also been informed that you recently had a meeting with the Allies. I was wondering if you could inform me of what is going on."

"Aya! After nearly a century of what you call 'opening up' you still so out of touch! Fine! I tell you! It no concern of mine after all! These European brats are just kicking up a fuss like the youngsters they are!"

"What sort of fuss?" Japan asked. "What are they getting so upset about?"

"Well apparently Italy and America have gone missing. The strains between the others' relationship has been strained because of it. Apparently they all are suspicious of each other for the two's disappearance. I swear, the only thing getting me involved in all this nonsense is the fact that I made such a stupid alliance with them, Aru!"

"Ah…I see." Japan said gently. "So, have they discovered anything important?"

"Just America's stupid jacket! Apparently it was crammed into some hole in the forest back at Opium's place!"

"Oh, is that all?"

"That's all I know or personally care to know! I have better business than to be running around finding a loud mouthed imp or a red-fruit eating surrender monkey! Aya! It make my head hurt just thinking of those two!"

"Well then." Japan said bowing respectfully. "I think that is all the questions I really have for you. I must be going now. Arigatō China-san where the sun sets."

"Aya!" China cringed. "After all this time, you still have no respect for me!"

Japan very calmly left to building as China sat in his seat huffing at the whole ordeal. At last he got up and went to the great statue of the dragon and crossed his huge-sleeved arms.

"I can't take it anymore! Why do these nations have to be so rude all damn time?"

"Oh, so you finally started using those brown things on your face huh?" a thunderous rumbling voice echoed in the room. The eyelids of the jade dragon slid upwards revealing the glowing red irises inside.

"Aru? What do you mean imperial dragon?" China asked his boss.

"Man, you must have marbles for eyes! You and that kid brother of yours!"

"Aya! What are you talking about?" China was starting to get irritated.

"Seriously? You didn't notice those two cats come in? They came in while you two were talking and pulled one of my scales out. And that was after I glowed bright blue! _Twice_! How did you not notice?"

"I thought it was a trick of the light!" China shrugged.

"There aren't even any windows in here!" The imperial dragon squinted. "How could you even think that?"

"So what do you want me to do about it?" China asked placing his fists on his hips. The dragon hummed.

"I don't know! I just figured it would upset you or something if you knew so I thought I'd tell you!"

"Well I am very upset!" China frowned. "How could you know that two little cats were here and not tell me about it! I wanted to see them! We're they fluffy and cute?"

The dragon sighed and squinted. "Oh boy, I don't know why I expected any other reaction from you."

* * *

"Boyaa!" America pumped in the air with a paw. "Success and score for the hero! Now for the next item!"

"Ve!" Italy motioned. "We should head over to Japan's place next!"

"Huh? Why?" America asked.

"Well it says for the hair from the tail of a kitsune right? Well those are what Japan's people call foxes!"

"So we head over to that area! Nice call man!"

"Hey look!" Italy alerted. "Japan is just coming out right now!"

"I wonder what he and China were talking about? I couldn't make out a lot of what they were saying."

"Who cares man? It's not like it concerns us in any way!" America suddenly perked his ears "Oh! I totally just got this sweet idea! What if we get Japan to give us a lift to his place?"

"Ve? Are you sure we can do that?"

"Totally man! Japan is my homboy and I know just how to how to persuade him!"

"Really?" Italy cocked his head. "How?"

"Watch and learn my man! And follow my lead!" America really did not want to do what he was about to do, but if they were ever going to get Japan to work for them like they wanted, he needed to just suck it up and go for it.

"Hey Japan!" he called as he walked over to the eastern nation. Japan looked to him and pulled back a little in surprise.

"Oh, a little neko. What are you doing in a place like this?"

"Again with the little!" America fumed. But he pushed his agitation out of his mind. He sighed as he started rubbing his body against Japan's legs as affectionately as he could.

"Don't think about it! Don't think about it! Don't think about it! Don't think about it! Don't think about it!" America kept chanting to himself as he rubbed Japan's legs. He looked to Italy who was staring in surprise.

"What are you doing?" America shouted at him. "Get over here and do it too! Don't you know Japan has a weakness for cats?"

"Ve! Right!" Italy nodded and he too came over and started to follow America's tactic if not surpass it.

Now Japan might've been a nation of little emotion and a firm resolve, but when cute little animals came around, that's where he started getting hesitant. Nearly everyone had gotten a rabbit and a hamster when they were introduced in his home because of how soft and cute they were. He had seen cats in his home as well, but none had been as affectionate as these two. He looked at them hesitantly.

"Kawaī. Totemo kawaī..." he muttered shakily as the two cats fawned on him. He knelt down to pet America. America really had to swallow his pride as he let out purrs for Japan. He glared at Italy who grew a little flustered from fear when he saw America.

"I swear, you tell anyone about this, I will kill you!"

"I won't tell anyone!" Italy pleaded. "Just don't hit me or do anything to make me separated from Germany and pasta!"

Japan finally let his will fall to pieces. He picked up both America and Italy and took them with him.

"Success!" America cheered as they were carried away.

* * *

Russia was peacefully reading a book in his home next to the fire. He had a few oil lamps burning since he lost his precious feather, but it didn't quite brighten up his house as much as the feather did. A loud banging came from his front door.

"Oh? That must be Britain da?" he smiled to himself setting down the book. "He wanted to talk to me about something. I wonder what that would be?"

Russia slowly came to the door and opened it up. But the person he saw before him was not the short, bushy-browed man he had come to know in the Allied powers. No, the piercing blue eyes, the serious expression, and the mood almost as cold as his home. This was not Britain.

"You better start talking now." Germany growled at Russia. Russia, not in the least intimidated, smiled a boyish grin.

"What would you like to talk about dear comrade?"

Germany shoved Russia against the wall. He barred his arm against Russia's scarfed neck. Even though this other nation was much larger, Germany could still hold his own against him.

"Where the hell is Italy you bastard?!" he thundered. "What have you done with him?"

Russia smiled as if nothing had happened and closed his eyes in cheer. "I do not know where your comrade is dear friend. He is as lost to me as he is to you."

"Lügner!" Germany exclaimed pulling him up and slamming him against the wall again. "The evidence points to you! What, are you collaborating with that American? Where is Italy!?"

"What? You angry at me for something I didn't do?" Russia smiled. Suddenly his face went dark and he started looking at Germany with void silver eyes. "You want to start another war? Come marching into my home demanding that everything belongs to you? Just like your boastful big brother da? I don't mind, after all, I miss that wall that decorated your home so beautifully. I wouldn't mind replacing it again of that's what you want."

Germany started sweating. He might've been tough, but even he could only do so much against Russia. There was only one person who was remotely strong enough to take Russia and for all Germany knew, he was sided with him.

"Ello' Russia?" A British accent came through the door. "The door was open so I let myself in, is there something…Germany? What are you doing here? Why are you pinning Russia down like that? What the bloody hell is going on here?"

"I think you have a pretty good idea yourself!" Germany barked releasing Russia who lost his aura. "I heard about the evidence you found on Russia's coat and I demand to know what he's done with Italy!"

"Listen Germany!" Britain shouted as he grabbed his coat collar. "Going around and accusing people is not going to help find Italy or America! You need to get a level head here!"

"Not until this cold-hearted rat tells me what he's done with Italy!"

"I haven't done anything." Russia spoke up gently. "I don't even know where they are. Why do you keep insisting that it's my fault?"

Britain and Germany stopped their fighting for a moment. Britain came up to Russia.

"Russia, listen. If you have them, please tell us. We're not asking you to hand them over, just tell us what you've done with them."

"I haven't done anything." Russia insisted.

"Is there something you want from them? Is it something you want from us? Tell us so at least we know why! Give us something Russia! Just let us know they're ok!"

"I haven't done anything."

"We don't care what you want or why you've done it! You don't have to tell us anything like that if you don't want! Just tell us that you know where Italy and America are! Tell us you know what happened to them! Tell us something! Anything at all!"

"I will say it again no matter how many times you asked." Russia said simply. "I haven't done anything, nor do I know where they are."


	12. New Year's Resolutions

**I DO NOT own Hetalia or any of its characters.**

**...nor do I claim to own the history of the world :3**

* * *

"Man, Japan is really a softie!" America snickered. "The guy won't flinch when watching even the scariest horror movie or ghost documentary at my place, but he melts like butter when he comes across a couple of cats!"

"I personally become like putty with either!" Italy declared completely unashamed.

"Anyway, it looks like he's almost to his house so get ready!"

The two of them were being carried in a bamboo container that Japan had bought for very cheap back at China's place. The lock was a mere flip lock which either America or Italy could have undid with ease, but this time, they wanted to be brought to their captors' country. Very soon they arrived at Japan's private house and were released from their cage in the traditional garden in the back. They walked out calmly pretending not to be fixated on getting away as soon as possible.

"Oh that's right, I must call Doitsu." Japan muttered to himself. He walked back into the house and slid the paper and wood door closed. America looked in his direction for a minute before turning to Italy.

"Right! Time to move!"

The two slipped through a hole in the fence and went into the streets of Kyoto. This town was by far the calmest either of them had witnessed. Sure, Russia's place wasn't exactly as exciting as this, but then again, he did live in the middle of a wasteland of snow. Here, the people were very calm and rode through the town on bicycles as the snow floated gently down. Italy felt really content being in such a familiar and calm place as Japan's home. They had been flung from place to place without mercy that only seemed to grow crazier and crazier, so this place was actually a nice refresher.

"Ve! Japan's folk seen to be more active than normal! I wonder what's going on?" Italy wondered.

"They're active?" America blinked, "Are you sure? They seem pretty mellow to me, man!"

"I've been with Japan for a while and I know he tends to keep things calm, but look how many people are out and cramming the stores!"

"Hmm, you've got a point there!" America noted, "Hey! Check it out! All those stores seem to be decorated! Like there's some event going on or stuff! Wait…."

America went to the window of a store and looked through, inside he could see calendars. Of course, most of the words were written in Japanese, but there were four numbers that stuck out. America widened his eyes in realization behind his glasses.

"Holy sock-monkeys! Italy, you know what today is?" America cried.

"Ve? What?"

"It's New Year's Eve!"

Italy jumped up in shock. "Che cosa? E '! Non riesco a crederci! It really is New Years!"

"You know what that means!" America shouted shaking Italy violently with his paws, "It means we totally missed Christmas! And Thanksgiving too! What has become of us if we can't even remember sweet, mega holidays where we're supposed to eat, drink, and party until we pass out and have to go to the hospital!? What has become of us!?"

"I don't know but please stop thrashing me around so much! You're making my head spin and I think it's going to fall off and send fireworks shooting into the air if you don't stop! That would mean I wouldn't have a head which mean I wouldn't be able to eat past and I can't go on in life if there is not pasta! And Germany! Germany why didn't you tell me about this! I wanted to spend Christmas with you like we always do because we never have any other plans! Germany! Germany!"

America instantly let go once Italy went on his nonstop, breathless rant. He then looked down and got another shocked look on his face.

"You know what that also means? It mean that we've been stuck as cats since late October! That was two months ago!"

"Ve? Così a lungo?" Italy exclaimed. "But it only feels like we've been on this search for a few days!"

"I know! Right? We need to pick up the pace! At this rate, people might start noticing we're missing and get a little worried!"

They started wandering to an area that was a little less populated. They found themselves walking into a park-like area.

"I wonder if Germany has thought about what happened to me?" Italy thought to himself, his eyes getting a little teary and sad. "He's probably too busy doing more important things. I can't blame him, he does have a lot of stuff to do. But all the same, I hope I cross his mind every now and then."

Italy looked up at the white capped, bright red torii gate they both sat under at the bridge to the entrance of the Shimogamo Shrine. They could hear some music coming the center of the temple, but didn't really care to go check it out. Night started to fall as the people were ushered out of the temple.

"I think Japan said this place is supposed to be off limits tonight this year so we can go and rest here." Italy suggested. America nodded feeling a little tired. They both wandered into the temple yard and went into the warm buildings. They curled up together as they watched the snow fall outside. They were both very tired and soon fell asleep.

They were awoken by the sound of a loud ruckus a couple hours later. America and Italy peeked their eyes open (Well, Italy 'opened' his eyes the way only he can because as we all know, if he actually DID open his eyes, the world would end.) And what they saw completely left them speechless.

Normally, they would have not seen anything at all, maybe the fire and the paper lanterns, but that would've been about it. But right now, their eyes fully comprehended the phenomenon occurring before them. Maybe it was the fact they were cats, or maybe it was something in that potion, or maybe they had just dropped the barrier between reality and fantasy in their mind in order to get all the things they needed, or maybe it was just a freak moment in time. Whatever the case, whatever the reason, Italy and America stared as they saw the festival going on before their eyes.

There had to be about fifty foxes, raccoon dogs, and various other animals dancing around the temple courtyard. To the side of the party there was a little band which included a monkey playing on a Taiko drum, an Akita dog which had a basket on his head and was playing a Shakuhachi flute and a crane which was plucking a Koto with his claws. The animals dancing all were wearing kimono's, or little vests, or carrying fans in their hands. They were all dancing around a big bonfire in disorganized merriment.

America and Italy stared for a while in dumbfounded silence. At last, Italy slowly swallowed and tried to speak.

"Um…America?" he said almost in a whisper.

"You know," America started not taking his eyes off the party for a second. "The thing is, I'm dead sure that I'm on some really hard drugs right now. The thing is I'm having some trouble remembering when I took anything. Oh God, it the seventies again!"

"Personally, I was going to say that I ate some of Britain's food," Italy replied still entranced. "but I've never had a reaction as bad as this before!"

Suddenly, some of the raccoon dogs noticed the two of them sitting in the shrine. They cheered.

"The cats have come to play! The cats have come to play!" They cried and ran up to them. America and Italy were shaken of any belief that they were imagining this in any way when they felt the paws grasp onto them and drag them into the party.

"Either this is the most intense acid trip I've ever been on!" America announced, "Or I'm being forced to dance by a bunch of raccoons!"

"Ve! Me too!" Italy cried in fear as they were dragged into the party. They were forced to dance into the night as the music went on. Everyone fawned on them saying how the two cat's arrivals (especially Italy since he was a calico) were a sign of good luck in the next year. America and Italy were just trying to figure out what the heck was going on and keep their heads straight.

"Geez! And I thought the stuff in Iggy's books were freaky! "

"Germany! Germany help! I'm surrounded by foxes and being forced to dance with them! I wish they were pretty women, but they aren't! Help Germany! Germany!"

As soon as the foxes forcing Italy to dance heard his rant, they leapt into the air, summersaulted in the air and landed on the ground as beautiful women. Italy ceased his ranting when he saw this and smiled slightly.

"Well, I know it's not the same but still, I can work with this!"

"Dude! They're freaking foxes!" America shouted over to his friends from the other side of the bonfire. "I mean come on! They still have their tails showing!"

"Ve~! Nobody's perfect!" Italy said to America, mesmerized by the pretty human faces of the foxes as they continued to force him to dance.

"So baby has anyone needed water around you? Because you sure would set things on fire with that face! My goodness! Siete tutti così bella! I never seen such lovely faces in all my life! Perhaps we can go sometime to my place and I'll show you how to make pasta! And then I will kiss all you until we're both drunk with amore! Ciao! This is the best Capodanno ever!"

All the fox women giggled like the ladies they pretended to be as Italy was spouting out nonsense phrases which were composed mostly of "Ciao! Ow! Bella! Baby!" and "Ve!" America looked at Italy as he just let himself become a puppet for them and groaned.

"That guy has no sense of restraint! Why if I was him, I would never be persuaded by a petty…."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two raccoon dogs stuffing mochi's into their mouths as fast as they could. The other raccoons were cheering them on until one just couldn't eat another mochi and and the victory of the contest was handed to his undefeated opponent. America narrowed his eyes, broke free of the grasp of the raccoons forcing him to dance, and marched over to the table. He slammed his paw on it threateningly.

"So!" He smirked, "You think you're hot stuff huh? Well let me tell you sumthin' son, you ain't got nothin'! No one can eat more in one sitting faster than Mr. America! Bring it!"

The raccoon dogs stopped to look at him trying to see if he was serious. The raccoon he was challenging was a master at eating large portions in one sitting. Plus, the opponent he had beaten was only his first challenge of the night and he only needed five mochis to beat him. He looked at his opponent skeptically (seeing how thin he was and all) but America stood firm.

"What's the matter? Scared you'll lose? Give me everything you've got! Come at me bro!"

The raccoon dogs cheered at the new challenge and set out a fresh stack of mochi's with plenty waiting on the sidelines. The two were ravenous and ready to devour the snacks before them. One raccoon came up with a white handkerchief with a red circle in the center as soon as the contestants were ready. He raised it up and counted aloud.

"Son… ,Ni….,Ichi….,Iku!"

The two started digging into the mochis and swallowing them faster than one could blink. America and his raccoon dog opponent kept the servers busy as the piles of mochis quickly shrunk. For a while, it seemed as if neither side would give, but unfortunately for the raccoon dog, America had been starved, even by normal standards, for quite some time now and his body was burning up the food as fast as it came in and only kept demanding more.

After a while, America started to think, "Aw man! I'm starting to feel a bit full! This guy's tough! I hope I can hold my own against him for a little longer!"

But as soon as he thought this, his opponent collapsed onto his back and clutched his stomach in his paws. He started moaning as his stomach absolutely refused to eat anymore. A couple of raccoon dogs came with a stretcher and carried him away to deal with his indigestion. The other raccoon dogs cheered and lifted America up on their shoulders. America pumped his paws in the air, he was really getting into his football (NO! The AMERICAN kind!) winning, cheese-head mode.

"Yeah! Yeah! Victory! America one! Raccoon zero! Aw yeah! Give it up for the red, white, and blue people! That's right! That's right! Who's da' boss? I'm da' boss! Eat it Rocky Balboa!"

Suddenly all the party animals went quiet, even the instrumentalists. Italy watched as his lovely ladies switched back into foxes and America was dropped to the ground as everyone else bowed towards the entrance of courtyard. Italy and America just looked around completely baffled by what was going on.

"Hey? What happened?" Italy asked. "Come on! I want to see my lovely ladies again and dance like a floppy doll in between their soft hands!"

"And why stop the victory party?" America frowned. "We still have to get the cheese dip and nachos to celebrate!"

The animals shoved America and Italy to the ground in a bowing position and shushed them violently. Italy knew when it was a good time to be quiet, but America was ready to kick up a fuss when they saw what everyone was bowing towards.

Through the entrance of the temple, surrounded by a flowing red, silk kimono with a red umbrella clutched between her paws, entered a white fox. This was not just any fox either, this fox was as tall as a young Japanese girl with eyes of deep yellow and was as white as the moon itself. But what really caught the two nation's attention was how behind her swayed _nine long tails_.

"Holy shittockeys!" America whispered to himself. "I can barely deal with one of those! And that thing's got nine!?"

"Ve!" America heard a noise next to him. He turned his head to see that Italy had crawled over to him. "That's it! That's what we need!"

"What's what we need?" America glance over his spectacles.

"The hair! The hair from the tail of a kitsune! That's where we can get it!"

As soon as Italy said this, all the tails of the kitsune illuminated with a blue light. The animals gazed in awe at how magnificent they were as they flowed around the mystic Japanese legend. The kitsune however was rather confused, but passed it off as some trick of the moonlight on her silvery fur.

"Suddenly, America leapt up and pointed his finger (as best he could with that cat paw of his) at the kitsune and shouted in the most dishonorable, childish fashion that has ever been created by mankind.

"Hey! Hey you! Yeah you! We need some of your hair from one of those nine feather dusters of yours!"

Everyone, literally everyone, gasped in horror at the gall. The foxes though he had a death wish, the raccoons though he just ate one too many mochis, but Italy thought he was just insane.

However, the kitsune mockingly laughed and came right up to the two cats. America was beginning to feel that he had bitten of a little more than he could chew this time around. He stood on his hind legs with his arms spread out to defend his comrade. Italy just huddled behind him as his head and curl peeked out from behind America and kept stuttering "Germany! Germany! Germany!"

The kitsune looked at them very carefully. America felt a little nervous and swallowed hard as the v-shaped nose nearly touched his own.

"You two…you are not cats, are you?"

America gawked and Italy peeked his head further out muttering a faint "Ve?"

The kitsune smiled at their reaction and twirled her oil-paper umbrella. "No, I didn't think so." She leaned back slightly enjoying how the scene was going "So, let me guess. You've been transformed and are searching for a way back, but you need to travel far to find all the things you need and one of those things is the hair from one of my tails. Am I correct?"

"But—But how?!—How'd you?—You just!-What?-" America was just too stunned to even begin to get all his words out. Italy was still too busy hiding behind America to say anything. The kitsune looked to them curiously and waived her many tails in the air.

"A creature of such great magic and mystery as myself should know these things when I see them, especially at my age. I am as old as you both are if not moreso."

"Out of curiosity…" Italy braved still quivering, "Just how old are you?"

"Today I have come to this New Year's festival amongst the familiar temple of my youth for it will be a thousand years passed since I came into the world."

"Wow, you really are an old hag." America murmured out the side of his mouth. He was pretty young himself (pushing three hundred) as was Italy (who was a tad over five hundred) is comparison, even if they were nations of the world.

"I'd better my manners if I were you!" the kitsune frowned. "So, you expect to just come waltzing into our festival, demand what you want and take it without consequence?"

America chuckled nervously and Italy started shaking as he ducked behind America, his curl sticking out from behind him. The kitsune looked at them menacingly with her yellow eyes. She then smiled.

"Normally I would be mad and punish you, but since this is a time of joy and renewal, I will not only forgive you, but I will also give you aid."

America and Italy perked. "Huh? For real? Sweet man!"

The kitsune brought one of her flowing tails before her. She pulled a black comb from her kimono and groomed out a cluster of silky, silvery hairs. When she was finished, she took a bright red ribbon that was wrapped around the handle of her umbrella and tied it around the lock of hair and handed it to America.

"Oh wow!" America beamed. "Thanks a lot man!" he thanked as he slipped the fifth ingredient into his purple pouch under his scruff. Italy bobbed his head "Si! Grazie! Grazie! Grazie bella volpe!"

The kitsune looked at them and spoke again. "My guess is that this is not the last thing you require."

"Non," Italy sighed as his ears flopped over his face and his curl drooped in depression. "We still need three more things."

"What was the next one? A piece of an unbroken dream or somethin'?" America thought before jumping up in excitement. "Dude! We should totally check my place for that!"

"So you know where you wish to go?" asked the kitsune.

"Um…well…" Italy thought.

"Yeah!" America interjected, "We got to go to my hometown! America's corner of the world! Ya' dig it?"

"What city to you wish to go to?" the kitsune asked.

"Uh….oh! Send us to New York!"

"New…York?" the kitsune sighed. "I'm afraid I do not know where that is."

"Ok then, uh…D.C! Washington D.C!"

"I'm sorry but…I do not know that place either."

"L.A.?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Miami?"

"No."

"Philadelphia?"

"Hey I know that place!" a voice called out. A raccoon got up and hopped over to the kitsune. "Yes mistress! I know where that is! I visited my cousin over there a few years ago! And I have a great way to get them over there in as little time as possible!"

"Very well." The kitsune nodded turning back to look at the cats. "You may leave, and may you succeed in your endeavor."

"Thanks a truckload, foxy lady!" America gestured as he followed the raccoon dog with Italy close behind. They were lead into a storage room full of fireworks far from the party.

"We're going to set these all off as soon as it hits midnight!" The raccoon dog explained as he shuffled through the junk. "But I think that we can use this one here just fine for our purposes." He fumbled with something rather large for a while as the two cats watched.

"All I have to do is let it know to go to Philadelphia and…ah! All set!" he set up the object against the wall and motioned for the cats to come close.

"Now I'm going to have to give you a little safety measures before you ride this."

"Safety measures?" America tilted his head. "What kind of safety measures?"

Within minutes, they were both tied securely to the item with rope so tight, they could barely move.

"Not what I had in mind!" America frowned. The raccoon dog just smiled.

"Just relax, I'll get this thing started and have you two on your way!"

"Ve!" Italy panicked, "I don't know, are you sure it's safe?"

"Of course it's safe! It's perfectly safe! Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get out of range before this thing goes off." And with that, he lit a string on the ground and ran out of the shack.

"Huh, funny looking traveling device." America noticed. "Kinda looks like a rocket."

These words had to sit for a minute in his mind before he finally muttered "Oh crap…"

The two started squirming in an attempt to get out of their binds, but they held fast and the spark on the rope just got closer and closer to the rocket. Eventually, they just gave up and waited with anticipation.

"Well, I guess we kinda' walked into this one." America sighed.

"Hey America, do you have anything you want to do this year?"

"Hmm?"

"You know, this new year that's almost here. Is there something you want to do?'

"Something I want to do?" America muttered. He looked up at the hole in the roof at the stars. "Well, I want to stop being a cat! That's for sure! But you know what I really want to do? I want to go to the next big world meeting and talk the entire time. I don't care what it would be about or how long, I just would talk to remind myself that people can actually understand me again."

"Ve~!" Italy smiled as he too looked up at the stars from the other side of the rocker. "Yeah, the one thing I really want to do is go to Germany's house and cook the best pasta in the world with my own two hands! That would be nice!"

Outside, they started hearing cheering and could see fireworks start exploding in the sky, it wouldn't be long before their own rocket went off as well.

"Hey Italy?" America called.

"Ve?"

"Happy New Year, pal."

Italy smiled, "Si! Buon anno!"

The spark reached the rocket which started to shake right before it sent the two flying into the air as they both cried their eyes out like little adolescents. It sped off in the color and light filled sky sending its passengers to their destination.


	13. The Last Chance

**I DO NOT own Hetalia or any of its characters.**

**...nor do I claim to own the history of the world :3**

* * *

"Dammit you tomato bastard! Isn't there anything you can offer me besides your damn tomatoes?!"

"But you love my tomatoes Romano! I thought offering you some would help cheer you up a little!"

"I've got bigger troubles on my mind dammit!" Romano swore as he snatched the basket full of Spain's wonderful tomatoes from his hands. After all, no matter how mad he was, he could never resist Spain's tomatoes. He lifted one out and looked at it with one of the famous 'Romano' look.

"How do you even have these? It's Gennaio!"

Spain smiled and pointed an index to the side of his eye as he winked at his little assistant. On top of it, the golden, tan skin under his wonderfully thick locks of dark, brown, curly hair was enough to make a crowed of girls swoon.

"Heh he!" Spain laughed. "You forget Romano! Yo soy España el jefe! I'm blessed with warmth and plenty! I can grow whatever I want whenever I want with my skills!"

"You egotistic bastard." Romano murmured as his curl bounced in irritation. "I don't need this! I just came over here to see if you could give me anything that might help me find mi fratello! But as you're clearly demonstrating, that idea has long sprouted wings and headed south!"

"Wait Romano! You said that Germany was dealing with it right? Why not just let him handle it huh? After all, he's more experience in this sort of thing than you!"

Romano turned around and looked furiously at his former caretaker. "Leave things to the potato bastard! Fat chance! That jackass has gone for two months 'searching' for Veneziano and so far, I've been doing a better job than him and all I've done so far is ask for your damn help!"

Romano shoved the tomato basket under his arm and walked off in a huff.

"Oh to hell with it! I'm going home! I don't want anyone bothering me so you better not come around!"

"Okay Romano!" Spain waived cheerily. "You behave my little tomato-faced underling!"

Romano flustered and looked back at his boss. "I told you never to call me that you bastard!"

"But you always look like a tomato when you're embarrassed! He-Hey! Your face is bright red now! You still look like a tomato after all these years!"

"Chichig!" Romano gritted his teeth as he made his way back home.

* * *

"Note to self: Never hitch rides from raccoons at Japan's place!"

America and Italy 'splashed-down' in the Delaware River and barely managed to scramble to the shore. It was unfortunate that they had decided to go in the middle of winter since the water was so unbelievably cold. When they finally crawled out, America kicked Italy.

"Keep moving! If we sit here like this, we get hypothermia!"

"Ve~? What's that?"

"It's where you get so cold that you start slowly getting slower and slower as your blood pressure goes to down and your heart stops beating. You can't move and are forced to stay alive for as long as possible until your body gives out and you shrivel up and die!"

"Die?" Italy leapt up, "No! No! I can't die! I still have to eat pasta and see Germany! Germany I don't want to die!"

Italy started running around in circles and doing everything he could to warm his body and keep it active. America did all he could to keep the blood flowing in him too. After a while, the two flopped onto the snow completely exhausted and dried up.

"Ve…ve…" Italy gasped. "I don't have hypothermia do I?" he wearily asked America.

"No man!" America wheezed. "You just…huff…are a little….huff…tuckered out….!"

"Si…ve…I know that much!" Italy nodded. He rolled to his side in the snow. "You know, it might be cold here, but it's still better than Russia's place!"

"True that!" America nodded. He looked back out at the Delaware River and grinned. "You know, I…huf…I actually kicked…huff….Germany's butt around here on Christmas!"

"Ve? Really?" Italy gasped.

"Yeah! It was back during the Revolutionary War! Iggy had gotten so desperate, he actually hired Germany and some of his mercenaries to come over and handle us! They were really giving us trouble let me tell you. But one night on Christmas Eve, me and my boys all were sitting around here. We were freezing our butts off! Heck! Many of us didn't even have shoes and just had to settle with bandages! It looked like it was going to be the worst Christmas ever!

But ol' George didn't give up! We knew Germany's guys, they called themselves the Hessians by the way, were having a huge Christmas bash at a fort across the Delaware. So in the middle of the night, we all loaded in our boats and paddled across and...HAHA…and they had no idea what hit them! They were all sleeping completely unarmed and unprepared! It had to be the easiest victory we ever had in the entire war! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Ve! That's amazing!" Italy panted rolling onto his paws.

Suddenly, the dong of a bell in the distance tolled three o'clock. America and Italy looked towards the sound and America perked.

"Hey! That's the sound of the Independence Hall! And it sounds close!"

"Do you know the way?" Italy asked.

America smirked, "You kidding? Just follow me! I know this town like the back of my hand…er…paw! Uh…you know what I mean!"

Indeed, America lead them right to the Hall without so much as a minute of delay. They wandered until America looked around the snow covered are of the plaza he had known for two centuries. He looked admirably at red brick building.

"Wow!" Italy looked up at the tower. "What a pretty place!"

"You bet man! Want to see inside?"

"Eh…"Italy hesitated. "Don't you think we'll get in trouble if we try sneaking into a monument like this?"

America slammed his paw on Italy's mouth and chuckled as he stared at him over his spectacles. "Dude, I grew up here! I watched this city become what it is today! I know the rounds, the tour hours, the closing time, and cleaning intervals! I _think_ I can get us inside without any trouble!"

America was true to his word. They had slipped in without so much as a glance of suspicion. Italy was amazed at how well kept the area was.

"Ve! It reminds me a little of the Senate that Grampa Rome's people used to hold!"

"Wait," America turned, "You're Grampa had a senate like mine?"

"Si!" Italy smiled. "Your country is founded on a lot of his original principles!"

"It _is_?" America gawked.

"Or course! You were there when they founded the principles, didn't you see the similarities?"

"Uh well," America shrugged rubbing the back of his neck with a paw. "I actually was a little young to know much about the world. Besides, I liked the policy and the system regardless of where it came. I mean hey! It was a good structure!"

"Ve! I know! Grampa Rome was the greatest empire to ever rule to world! He created that system and it made him the most powerful and rich nation in history! He had the entire world at his fingertips and bound it together under his law!"

Italy chuckled nervously, "But, he couldn't stop expanding and it kinda' went to his head until he just got too big and then the ceasers…and the gauls… and the…oh mi Dio, I think I'm getting a headache!"

"Whoah, Tough luck man!" America said as he caught Italy who nearly fell over from the dizziness. He shook his head back straight and looked to America.

"But you know, you never really seem to be too keen on expanding. How come?"

"Why the heck would I want to expand?" America grinned flicking his tail and placing a paw on his chest. "I've got everything I'd ever want right here! Besides, I'm pretty big as it is!"

"Ve, we'll that's true! I guess Grampa Rome could've learned a thing or two from you! But then again, if he hadn't come first, you wouldn't be the way you are!" Italy twitched his ears as his curl bounced. "You know, I guess the two of us are closer than we realize. You're what remains of Grampa Rome's policy, and I'm what remains of his empire! Well, me and mi fratello that is!"

"I guess," America nodded in agreement. "Huh, I never thought of it that way!"

"Hey America, what's this?" Italy asked walking over to a wall. America turned to look at what he was walking towards.

"That? That's a painting of when me and the gang signed the constitution! I can still remember it as if it was yesterday! We all wrote down our dream on that paper!"

"Dream?" Italy perked.

"Yup! The dream that still stands strong and tall!"

"It's unbroken?"

"Well yeah! I guess you could say that!"

"So I guess a painting like this could be seen as a piece of an unbroken dream right?" Italy looked at the painting expectantly. Sure enough, the illustration of the council of men sighing America's rules and principles glowed a faint blue for a minute before going back to normal.

"Dude! It glowed!" America got excited. "So does that mean this is one of the ingredients too?"

"Si! It's the unbroken dream the list required! Let's take a piece of it!"

Italy rushed forward to the painting, but he felt himself violently hauled back and looked at severely in the face by America.

"What the heck do you think you're doin'?" America shouted. "That happens to be a very important painting to me and you are not to vandalize it! You leave this sort of this to me! Got it?"

Italy was freaking out when America had glared at him. He curled into a fetal position, swung his tail to his side and hid his shaking head under his paws.

"Ve! I'm sorry! I didn't mean anything by it! I just wanted to get the ingredient so we could get back home as soon as possible! You go ahead and take a piece if you want just don't kill me or hurt me or even leave me with slight bruising or mental scarring anywhere! I don't think I could manage!"

America ignored Italy with a roll of his eyes and went over to the painting. He decided to take a very small chunk of paint from the corner so it wouldn't damage it. He very carefully nudged a piece off and caught it in his paws. It was about the size of his paw's palm pad and he very carefully placed it in the bag along with everything else.

"There! Only two more left!" America pulled out the list and gave it to the still cowering Italy. "Hey! Weak-ass! You want to make a new lake out of sweat, or do you want to read the next thing on the list?"

Italy got out of his cowering position and walked over to the list picking it up in his paws.

"Ve. Well let's see. The next thing is the ring from a man of ash."

"Now that right there's a toughie!" America sighed. "How we supposed to get something like that?"

"Wait…ash? A man of ash?" Italy bounced up and now. "Ve! Ve! I know where we need to go! De vuelta a mi casa!"

"What? Why?" America blinked.

"I'll explain when we get there! Do you think you can get us on flight to Naples, Italy?"

America looked at Italy over his glasses . "You're asking me to get us to the airport and on a plane to Italy at my place? Pfft! Piece of cake!"

* * *

Germany was getting stressed. This was only getting worse and worse and from the looks of it, all the Allies were involved in this one way or another. He rubbed his temple in frustration.

"I keep blaming all these Allied powers but I'm not doing anything about it. Damn! What the hell is wrong with me?"

"Germany," Japan said gently "I think that we need to consider that they might not be guilty as we perceive. Perhaps we just aren't looking in the right places."

"Don't you think I've tried that?" Germany barked. "I've been considering it since this whole things started! I've tried to find ways to convince myself that none of them are to blame! But more and more evidence just keeps piling up against them! The absence of America, Britain getting his secret service involved, the secret meetings they've held, the hair on Russia's coat, their refusal to tell us anything at all! It's just too much to ignore! I can't just let myself say that none of this is pointing to them all!"

Japan sighed and nodded. "Hai, I see that as well. But what are we to do? If the Allies really do have Italy captive, then what are they trying to accomplish? Moreover, are they going to take someone else?"

"That is exactly what I am worried about." Germany groaned. "They act as if they are ignorant, but what if they are just playing a ruse to confuse us? They could be planning something big. Scheiße! Why couldn't it have been me instead of Italy?"

"Italy is a lot easier to capture than either of us." Japan noted. "It is understandable why they would choose to go for him first."

"It's unforgivable!" Germany shouted pounding his fist on the table. "It's cowardly and wicked! Taking advantage of someone like Italy! It makes me burn with rage just thinking of it! If Italy was just returned to me without any trouble, I would drop this whole thing! I don't care why they took him, I just want him back safe and unharmed! He's my responsibility and I'll be dammed if I let my ally…no! My friend down!"

"Naruhodo." Japan acknowledged. "What are you going to do then?"

Germany rose from his seat and went over to the phone. He picked it up and very gravely and slowly dialed the number in his mind. He placed the plastic to his ear and listened as it rang its melancholy tune.

* * *

Miles away in London, a telephone rang on Britain's desk. He picked it up and spoke into the mouthpiece.

"Hello? Britain speaking." he answered.

"Britain." A German accent came on the other side. Britain narrowed his massive brows in agitation. He stood up from his chair and slammed his hand on the desk violently. "Listen you damn wanker! I've had enough of this bloody nonsense! I'm sick and tired of you…"

"I'm only going to say this once so you better follow me very carefully." Germany interrupted on the other line. Britain went quiet as he heard this new level of seriousness in Germany's voice.

"I'm giving you Allies one last chance. Give Italy back to me within ten days or I promise you, I will declare war. And this time I won't fail, because I am avenging my friend."

Britain listened as the line clicked and went dead. He stayed frozen in his stance listening to nothing but the beeps from the phone. He slowly loosened his grip and let the device fall from his hand, it slammed onto the desk, but he didn't care. His worse fear had finally been made a reality.

"Dear God…" He breathed "World War III is in ten days."

* * *

"See man? I told you I'd get us there!"

America and Italy watched as the tour bus they rode on passed by the various buildings and made its way into the less populated areas of the town. They had managed to get off of the plane with ease and get themselves a ride on the top of a tour bus.

"Why exactly are we hitching a ride on this bus?" America asked Italy. Italy waived a paw at him as the wind blew through their fur.

"Ve! You just wait! You'll see soon enough!"

It was a while before the bus finally came to a halt and the tourists worked their way out. America and Italy leapt down from the bus with ease and wandered into the ruins.

"Ok, I still don't get what we're doing here. And what's with the weird fetal positioned people statues?"

"Siamo a Pompei! The city that was buried in the ash of Mount Vesuvius in 79 A.D.! Don't you see? The man of ash! All the people here are the people of ash! All we have to do is get a ring from one of them!"

"Dude that's awesome! But how? They're all filled with cement!"

"We'll just have to break off a finger and get one out! My Grampa's people always wore rings on their middle finger so they could use it for seals! We should be able to get one out of a cast of a noble. Oh! There's one!"

Italy and America went up to one statue which was curled up on the rooftop of one of the homes and started to try and break off the middle finger. They tried pushing, scraping, gnawing and even pulling. However, that concrete finger wouldn't budge.

"Ve! We need to get that finger off!"

"Easier said than done!" America huffed. "That thing's stuck on!"

"There must be some way to get it off!" Italy muttered, "We just need to…"

"Damn cats! Get the hell out of here!"

Italy felt a heavy rock slam into his side. He toppled over and started crying and flailing miserably. America looked towards the direction the stone came from and saw an auburn-haired man with a curl sticking out the side of his head, much like his brother, with a very unpleasant disposition.

"Didn't you hear me stupido? I said get out of here!" Romano threw another rock towards them angrily. America barely dodged getting smacked in the face.

"Whoa! Hey dude! What the hell!" America shouted not caring if he heard him or not. "You just slammed your own brother you jerk!"

"Dammit! Don't make me come up there!" Romano warned shaking a finger at them both.

"This is bad!" America thought and went over to the badly hurt Italy. "Hey! Hey dude! Get up!"

"Ve~!" Italy cried. "My side! It hurts really badly! I think I'm dying! No I can't die! I don't want to die! Germany! Germany!" Italy started crying and flinched when he did. He looked as if he was in a lot of real pain. That last blow must've done more damage than they realized.

"Crap!" America hissed to himself and looked back to the cement statue. Fortunately Romano's last throw had hit the statue's hand and broken it to pieces. In the rubble was a shining golden ring. America went over and shoved it into his pouch and then went back to Italy. He started getting panicky when he heard Romano come up the stairs after them.

"Hey! Hey come on! We've got to get out of here! You're brothers coming up and my guess is, he's not gonna' offer us a lift!"

"Ve!" Italy struggled to his feet and tried following America who jumped down as best he could down the second set of steps along the wall. Italy nearly was to the wall's edge when he felt something grab his tail.

"Gotcha you little bastard!"

"Romano! Romano please don't!" Italy pleaded even though he knew it was useless. Romano yanked on his brother's tail and pulled him back on the roof. Italy wailed from the pain and started crying when he felt himself being plucked from the ground. Italy wasn't a fighter and even if he was, he was in too much pain to attack, and even if he wasn't he would have never done anything to hurt his dear older brother. Romano lifted Italy up gruffly and looked at his threateningly.

"You little vermin! I'll teach you to make the city of my grandfather's people a joke, you…!"

Romano stopped his talk and looked into Italy's weepy face. Maybe it was the brotherly bond they shared, maybe it was the features he had become so accustomed to, or maybe it was just that Romano was the only one using his eyes. But he stared into Italy's face until his face bloomed into a bright red and his eyes went wide. His mouth opened, but the word struggled to exit as he became flustered beyond compare.

"Ve….Ve….Ven…_Veneziano?!"_

A sharp rock flew through the air and hit Romano square on the knuckle. He cried out from pain and dropped his little brother as he held his injured hand which had a large cut which was starting to bleed. He looked up to see the other cat with a rock clutched in its paw.

"Yeah!" America shouted threateningly. "Try dodging my baseball throws you jerk! No one can miss my curveballs whether they're made of leather or stone!"

"_Chihgigchi!_" Romano exclaimed as he tended to his hurt hand. Italy, who was just too frightened to realize that his brother actually recognized him, ran down the steps as best as his broken body could manage. The moment America saw him coming, he set down the rock and ran ahead as the two made their getaway.

Romano went to the edge of the old roman ruin roof and looked to see the calico cat stop by the basket of Spain's tomatoes that Romano had brought along, take one, then run off. He looked in complete shock as the two ran off.

"Cazzo!" Romano swore. "Mio fratello è un gatto! My brother's a freaking _cat_!"

* * *

It was late that night when America and Italy had finally managed to reach a bus station. They hadn't stopped running ever since bumping into Romano. They crawled into the cargo hold under a bus that was registered as NON-STOP FROM NAPLES TO BERLIN inside the bus office. The two didn't care and just wanted somewhere to hide and get out of there. Italy managed to slink his body into the hold just before they were all closed and the bus was sent on its merry way.

Inside, they were surrounded by luggage from the passengers above. America looked around until he found a blanket. He laid it out on in the middle of the hold and helped Italy into it. He shook his head.

"You can't get off the building before your brother comes along, but you manage to carry an entire tomato all the way here?"

"Ve!" Italy flinched giving a smile and placing a paw on his prize. "These are big brother Spain's tomatoes! The best fruit in the world!"

"Fruit? You mean vegetable!" America corrected.

"It's a fruit! Everyone in my home knows that!" Italy insisted pawing at it playfully. America looked at the tomato and pondered.

"Hey, didn't the last thing on the list say something about a fruit?"

"Si." Italy wheezed.

"I know that it's highly improbable and we've really pushed our luck on this search, but do you think that maybe…"

Italy caught on. "It's possibile, Spain is considered the country of the sun, and tomatoes are his specialty. Italy looked to the tomato and said weakly. "A fruit of sunshine."

Pure dumb luck. The two of them must've used the absolute last of it on this insane mission of theirs because sure enough, the tomato glowed bright blue signaling that the last ingredient had indeed been found. America thought he was ready to cry when he saw that light and tucked the fruit into his pouch.

"Dude!...Dude!...Dude!" was all he could say. There was nothing more that really needed to be said. They had done it. They had gotten everything they needed and now only needed to mix them with oil and milk and they would once again be back to the way they belonged.

Italy tried to let out a cheer, but he coughed violently. America stopped his celebration and walked over to his side. Very carefully, he placed a paw gently on his comrade.

"Hey...Hey buddy. You ok?"

"Sure!" Italy faked a smile scooting his feet under his body. "I feel just fine! One hundred percent and more! Why I could run for miles without…!"

Italy tried to get up, but his legs wobbled and he flopped back onto the blanket with a whine as if he had really felt a lot of pain. America looked at him worriedly.

"Just take it easy. We've got all this trip to rest up."

"Am I…is it really bad?" Italy asked weakly, tears of worry in his eyes. "Am I going to.."

"NO!" America barked. "No, you're just a little banged up, you're gonna' be fine! Trust me!"

"I want," Italy sniffed. "I want to see Germany. I want to make him pasta and then try to run away from his training. I want to see Germany. Germany."

"You are! You will see Germany again!" America insisted. "You're just scared! You are hurt that's true, but once we get back to normal, you'll be fixed in no time! You're going to be fine! You got that?"

Italy nodded, but he was still a little worried. The two fell asleep as Italy whispered in his dreaming state. "Germany… Germany…Germany..."

* * *

The Allied Powers were once again gathered together, but this time around it was much more serious and grave.

"Je ne peux pas le croire. What are we going to do?" France sighed nervously. Russia smiled his typical grin.

"I say we let them come da? I wouldn't mind having another chance to crush their skulls with my enormous power."

"That's right!" China agreed. "We stopped those bastards once! We can do it again, Aru!"

"This isn't something to be taken so bloody lightly!" Britain thundered. "We just got through two of these not five decades ago! Do we really want to rush into another one?"

"Germany clearly does!" France snorted. "What are you going to do? Send your prime minister to wheel and deal with him again like last time? Because we all know how that turned out!"

"You shut up, frog!" Britain snarled. "Listen! Germany is accusing us of capturing Italy! But as we all know, Italy is not in our possession, nor do we know where he is! We are completely innocent!"

"But Germany is still blaming us." Russia pointed out. "He won't listen to our reason. And now, he's put a time frame for us to undo a crime we never committed."

"I know. It looks as if war is inevitable at this point but all the same, I say that we don't strike."

"Aya! You want us to just wait like sitting ducks for him to come and bomb us?" China exclaimed.

"Whatever the reason, whatever the case, Germany has been justified in suspecting us. However, until he makes a move, I will not engage in any warlike confrontation with him! He must strike us before we strike back!"

"Are you mad Britain? Where's the logic in that?" France criticized.

Britain walked to the exit of the room and opened the door. He stood silent for a minute before turning back to look at his fellow nations.

"Gentlemen, I will not be the one to draw first blood. And if you have any sense of wisdom, neither will you."

He turned his head back to the door.

"Don't worry. We only have to wait six days before the deadline."

"And what should we do until then?" Russia asked.

"We pray. We pray to God for a miracle."

* * *

Italy and America felt the jolt of the bus coming to a stop. America got to his feet as Italy painfully turned his head. They were greeted with a blinding light, and soon afterwards, a stick.

"Get out! Verdammt Katzen! Get out of this bus! And don't let me catch you here again!"

America leapt out as poor Italy made his best effort to evade the painful jabs coming from the man. Once out, they ran and ran until they came to an old wurst factory in the middle of nowhere that was closed for the night. They ventured inside and took a look around. It smelt heavily of grease, raw meat, and live animals. But there was no one there so it was safe. Or so it seemed.

"Ve…ve…" Italy weakly muttered as he lay back down. "My side really is beginning to hurt."

America turned around and walked over to him. "Here, let me see." He approached the other country, but as he did, his hind paw slipped and landed on a big green button on a control panel.

The instant this happened, a blaring alarm sounded and the two cats looked up in shock. Suddenly, they both felt the ground beneath them moving. America looked down to see that they had actually crawled on to a conveyer belt.

"Of course!" America groaned and nudged Italy repeatedly.

"Ow…ow..ve.." Italy whined. "That hurts!"

"Well it's not gonna' hurt as much if you don't… WHAOAH!"

America suddenly found himself dangling in the air upside down. His tail which was sticking straight up, got tangled in the packaging string for the wurst and he couldn't get out of it.

"America!" Italy shouted.

"Hey! Hey don't move! I'll get out of this just don't….!"

America stopped his instructions when he saw what Italy's conveyer belt was headed. It was going straight to a dicing and mashing machine. America completely changed his tune.

"Italy! Get your ass out of there!"

"But you just said…"

"Forget what I just said! Move it unless you want to be German sausage!"

Italy then saw what he was headed for, he cried out in fear but still was too weak to run. He managed to roll himself off the conveyer belt onto the one below which had already passed through the meat grinder.

"Ve! That was close." He said as he let out a sigh of relief, just before he was doused in oil and various spices. "Ve! What is this?" he tried shaking his head free of the oil just before a spurt of flower was flung in his face. He rode along looking like a ghost. An oily, seasoned ghost.

"Hey Italy! Italy dude!" America waived paws and shouted desperately. "Watch out for the rollers!"

"The what?" Italy asked. Suddenly, he felt himself being pressed under what seemed like hundreds of rolling pins. Fortunately, there was not a whole lot of pressure when they pushed down, but that didn't prevent Italy from getting squished a little. The machines didn't respond well and short circuited when they felt the presence of something larger than sausage meat.

As Italy tried to get out from underneath the rollers, he shoved the conveyer belt off its track which ended getting chewed up in the various other mechanisms and causing the whole machinery to spazz uncontrollably.

"That's not good!" America shouted. His tail was still tightly bound in the mass of string, but he managed to pull against it enough to reach over and snatch Italy by the torso before the rollers started sparking.

This place is getting ready to blow!" America shouted trying to keep a firm grip on Italy who was starting to really panic. Suddenly, the string around America's tail got jammed into the system the thread was on and rendered the two immobile. Right over a huge, boiling vat of oil where the wurst was cooked. All while the machinery was starting to collapse and break down around them.

"Ah! The pot! The pots right below us! Germany! Germany help! I don't want to become oily wurst! It's not that it tastes bad or anything, but I just don't want to die! Germany! Germany!"

America was so busy trying to keep a hold on Italy that he turned his head a little too far down and the purple pouch around his neck slipped off and fell right into the boiling oil.

"No!" America cried desperately. "The stuff!" But he noticed a single blue ripple flow from where the ingredient dropped in. America stared at it for a while and started thinking very carefully of whether he should do it or not. The rolling stand on which the enormous vat sat on was beginning to get unstable and it would topple over at any minute now, there wasn't much time. America took a deep breath, prayed that Iggy knew what he was talking about, and looked down at Italy. Italy was too panicked and busy crying to even notice what was going on and just flailed helplessly screaming at the top of his lungs.

"Germany! Please help me! I don't want to die! I don't want to die like this! I want to see you again! Please Germany! Germany!"

"Hey!" America shouted "Hey! Look at me!"

Italy managed to glance his weeping face at America. America looked at him with dead seriousness.

"Do you remember when we were in the snow tunnel at Russia's place? Do you remember how you told me about why you were so fond of Germany?"

Italy tearfully nodded as chaos was ensuing around them.

"And do you remember what I told you? Can you tell me what I said?"

"You said," Italy sobbed, "You said that you would get me back to normal. You said that you would do everything in your power to get me back to Germany!"

"And don't you forget it!"

America released his hold on Italy. Italy cried out louder as he toppled head over heels into the boiling vat below him. The last thing he saw was America looking down with a determined expression right before the yellow, murky fluid enveloped him.


	14. Circle of Friends

**I DO NOT own Hetalia or its characters.**

**...nor do I claim to own the history of the world :3**

* * *

Italy slowly blinked his eyes open. He stared upwards as he took in all the damage the factory had taken. It was clear that the domino effect of gumming up the machinery really took its toll on the old place. Italy shivered as he felt unusually cold, he knew it was winter and all and the factory wasn't exactly crammed with heaters but still, he felt remarkably cold.

He rolled onto his stomach and winced at the pain in his ribs.

"Ve…" he whined, "Romano's got a really good arm. I knew he could throw pretty well, but still…"

Italy felt his head start pounding, he sat down and brought his paw up to his temple and rubbed it soothingly. He let out a few whimpers as he felt the throbbing pain in his skull.

"What now? How am I going to get back to Germany? I wonder if I can find his house and perhaps…"

Italy stopped and felt his head. He lifted his other arm as well and prodded his skull. He started getting a little panicked as he noticed that something was missing.

"Ve! My ears! Where are my ears? I can't find them on my head!" Italy then noticed how the fur on his head seemed awfully shaggier than normal. He ran his paws through it and squinted his brows in worried confusion. "Wha—What's happened to me? Oh!"

Italy pulled back when he felt his paw touch something at the side of his head. He slowly reached back and touched the tender structures. They seemed familiar in a way, the shape, the touch, almost as if it was…

"le mie orecchie?" Italy gasped. He touched his ears all around, the front, back, inside, edges until he was quite positive that they had returned to their human shape.

It was only after this that he realized how dexterous his paws had become. He brought them down and saw that they were no longer paws, but hands. The same, wonderful, delicate hands he had grown up with. The hands that helped to craft the beautiful paintings, build the marvelous architecture, play the heavenly music, and make the wonderful cuisine that made him such a pleasant and beautiful country.

Italy looked at his arms in joy and placed his hands on his chest as he looked down at himself. He saw that all the fur had gone from his body. The weak, scrawny form was never so welcomed by Italy as he looked over himself to see if everything had returned to the way it belonged. He spread his legs out and shifted his ankles to remind himself of their shape and feel. Those legs that couldn't do squat for training, but made him faster than a car when he fled. He ran his fingers through his auburn hair relieved to once again have that feeling.

His hands traveled down to his face and it was here that Italy started getting really exultant. He touched his forehead, his thin eyebrows, his merry cheeks and his own little nose which had all returned to the way they belonged. But what really struck him was when he felt his lips. He started crying from joy when he skimmed his fingers over them. Those beautiful, perfect, God-sculpted lips which he could once again use to send kisses to all the sweet, sweet ladies of the world!

Even though Italy saw that he had returned to his human shape and knew that it was gone as well, he couldn't help checking. He glanced behind himself and felt his lower back, but as expected, he no longer bore that long, slender tail of his.

"Ve~! I'm a man again!" Italy cried from joy jumping to his feet. He bounced in the air and waved his arms in delight. "I'm a man again! This is fantastico! I can make pasta and talk to Germany again and play football! And I'm…I'm…"

Italy suddenly remembered the weather. "And I'm freezing from being uncovered in this terrible cold!"

He stopped his celebration and clutched himself hard as he shivered violently. However, when he grabbed his sides, the pain from Romano's blow shot through him. Italy could move around more without any pain now that he was a human, but his ribs were still quite battered.

"Oww…" He moaned, massaging his ribs. Italy looked around for something warm or at least to cover himself. However, all he could find was a few white cloaks meant for the workers on a rack near the wall. He put one on, but it only came down to his knees and didn't warm him up at all, the cold touch of the plastic only made him more miserable, but it was resilient and enough to keep him decent.

As he looked down at his wardrobe, he started feeling a little light-headed when he saw the ground. He could walk just fine back on two legs, (that sort of thing is like riding a bike, you just never forget.) but he was a bit surprised how high the ground was.

"Ve! I know that I'm short but, I can't help but feel really tall right now! I wonder if America…"

Suddenly he remembered what happened. He ran back to the mass of broken machinery that lay half intact and half collapsed in the factory.

"America!" Italy called frantically with cupped hands, "Can you hear me? Where are you? Oh, please be ok! Make some noise! Make a sound! Anything!"

Italy heard some weak moans coming from a pile of panels, girders, and junk. He knelt close to the pile and listened as he heard the soft groans coming from underneath. As best he could, he dug through the pile trying to get to the noise. He was too weak to move the heavier metals, but he managed to clear away enough rubbish to find America lying on his back and groaning weakly. Italy became flustered and leaned over him.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, "Oh, per favore no! Are you alright?"

America coughed a couple times and looked to Italy.

"N…ny..nyaw" he mewled. He looked like he was in a lot of pain, but Italy realized that he was no longer able to comprehend what the nation-cat was saying. He raised his hands, but was afraid to touch America for fear of hurting him more.

"Ve! Please get up!" Italy begged.

"_I…I can't…_" America gritted his teeth. He knew Italy couldn't understand his words, but he still responded out of habit. Italy leaned over him more.

"I know you can get up! You're too strong to stay down!"

"_I…I just…I can't do it._" America strained through his twisting pain.

"Dai! Dai!" Italy urged looking down at him with tears coming out of his eyes. "I need you to get up! I can't bear it if you were to die because of me! Please! Please you have to get up!"

"_No dude…_" America groaned, "_You don't understand…I can't get up!...You're knee if friggin' crushing my tail!_"

America made an attempt to communicate this to Italy by waiving his paw downward. Italy got the gist and looked to see his knee rammed on top of America's tail, right near the base too. Italy let out a "Ve!" of shocked realization and scooted himself off immediately. However, as he did, he managed to shift his knee a little while it was still planted on the ground. This caused America even more unnecessary pain as he yowled from the agony of it all. Italy came back over him, careful not to crush anything this time, and clasped his hands in a prayer-like position.

"I'm so sorry!" He pleaded. "I didn't realize I was crushing your tail! I didn't mean it! Honest I didn't! I didn't hurt you anywhere else did I? Are you alright?!"

America tilted his head and gave a little nod. Italy gave a little smile.

"Ve~. Questo è buono. I'm glad." He sighed in relief. He placed his hands on his knees and gained another worried look. "Can you can move a little?"

America tried getting up, but after he walked about two steps towards Italy, he found that he didn't have the strength and collapsed. Italy caught America before he fell and cradled him in his arms.

"It's ok. I'll take you back to Germany's place and make everything better! Germany often has private business with Japan during this time, so his house should be completely empty! Oh, and I'll carry the pouch for you so you don't…"

Italy searched America's scruff, but realized it wasn't there. He started looking around thinking that it might've been dropped, but then he realized what had happened. He looked at America in his arms.

"America did…did you drop the ingredients in that vat to change me back?"

"_Well, it sort of just fell in and I had to act fast._" America shrugged.

"Ve! But…but what about you? How are you going to change back now?"

America just lay his head down onto Italy's arm and tried not to think about it. Italy looked at him sorrowfully and then tried to smile.

"Don't be so sad! I-I'm sure we can work something out! We'll think of something!" Italy adjusted America in his arms and headed for the exit. "I'll take you to Germany's house and make us both a nice big meal of pasta! Then we can…"

Italy was interrupted when America started mewling. He looked down at him.

"Ve? What wrong?"

America motioned to Italy's side gently and then looked back up at him.

"Oh! Oh don't worry about that! It doesn't hurt unless I touch it! I'll be fine now! You just take a little siesta and I'll get us where we need to go!"

America accepted this answer and laid his head back on Italy's arm. Italy moved his other hand up to scratch America behind his ears and smiled as he heard him purr. America shook his head and looked up disapprovingly at Italy. Italy could read his face plainly.

"Oh, please?" Italy begged, "Let me just do it this one time. It'll make you feel better! I won't tell anyone! Promessa!"

"_Mmnnhe… ok, fine!_" America grumbled and rested his head back down. Italy went back to scratching his head as America purred vociferously. "_That does feel really…really nice…_" America admitted to himself as he slowly let his tired form fall asleep.

Italy wandered around. He had been to Germany's place countless times, but the factory's location was a bit new to him and he had to wander around a bit before he could find some recognizable land marks. As he went around, the German locals couldn't help but stare at his appearance. He was after all walking around with no shirt, shoes, socks, pants, boxers, or coat in the middle of January. Sure he was wearing the work cloak, but that hardly served as appropriate wear for the weather.

It was a few hours before Italy at last found his way into Germany's home. It was a traditional, white and brown, three story tall German house. The yard was pristine and well-kept even in though it was winter. He walked up to front door and gently slid one hand out from under America. America was woken by the movement.

"_Hmm..wha-we there yet man?_" America yawned as he rubbed his eyes with a paw. Italy noticed his commotion and looked down.

"Ve! Sorry to wake you, but I'm just going to open this door. I always have a spare key to Germany's house in my pants…which I'm not…wearing…right….now." Italy blushed from embarrassment as he patted where his pockets would've been.

"E 'ok! This won't be a problem! Germany keeps a spare key hidden outside in a real secret place for emergencies like this! Although most of the time, it's just for me now that I think about it."

Italy, still carrying America, searched the birdhouse that was planted in the front yard. He shuffled around the old, empty nest until his hand touched some cold metal.

"Ve! Here we are!" Italy exclaimed as he pulled out the key. He went back to the door and turned it until the lock clicked open. Walking inside, Italy closed the door, relocked it, and placed the key on the living room table. He then gently rested America down on the couch. He took the throw blanket off the back and wrapped it around the other nation to help him feel comfortable. Italy stood up and looked towards the stairs.

"You know, Germany usually keeps some of my clothes over here at his house! I'll bet they're in his dresser right now! You just stay here and rest and I'll cook us some pasta when I come back down!"

"_Yeah yeah…whatever man_." America moaned.

Italy went upstairs into Germany's unnaturally well-kept and clean bedroom. He went over to the dresser and started pulling out Germany's pristine, folded clothes and tossed them around the room in his search.

"I know he keeps them in here somewhere! Now where did he… ah! Hai trovato!"

Italy pulled familiar clothing out of the drawer. It was a pair of yellow boxers, black pants, and a black long-sleeved shirt. He plopped down on Germany's crisp bed, wrinkling it beyond hope, as he fumbled to get his clothes on. He had slipped his black shirt on (not bothering to button it) and was about to put his pants on when he heard a loud noise coming from downstairs. He jumped up, tossed his pants aside and ran down the stairs. He tripped and ended up falling head over heels all the way down. When he got up, his head was starting to smart as he realized it was only the sound of a football game on the television.

"Che cosa? How did that turn on?"

Italy looked over the couch and saw America sitting upright with the remote in his little paws. Italy looked sadly at him.

"Heeey!" he whined, "You really scared me! I thought someone big and mean had come into the house!"

"_Unless you're forgetting, this house does belong to Germany._" America commented, "_And besides, I haven't watched a single game in two months! I need my sports man!"_

"Well," Italy sighed, "I guess I'll go and make some pasta then. Germany usually has plenty of flower and oil ready for when I come over."

"_What? You're not going to finish putting pants on?_" America glanced over his glasses. "_I mean, boxers are better than nothing, but still!_"

Italy went into Germany's shining clean kitchen. He pulled the flour from the top shelf and gathered the rest of the needed ingredients. Mixing them together, he kneaded the dough very carefully and precisely. After a while of handling the dough, he rolled it flat and cut out the thin strips with a knife and let them hang for a minute as he went over to prepare the sauce. After a little bit, he put the strips of pasta into a big pot of boiling water and started singing to himself.

"Disegna un cerchio, questa è la terra! Disegna un cerchio, questa è la terra! Disegna un cerchio, questa è la terra! Sono Hetalia! Ah! Il mondo intorno a noi, può essere visto attraverso il tratto di un pennello singolo! E ora facciamo un ...!"

Italy heard some loud mews coming from the other room. It sounded like America was getting impatient and trying to call him.

"Don't worry!" Italy called, still focusing on stirring the pasta. "The pasta will be done in a little bit! All I have to do is stir it a little more, add the sauce and then we can…!"

"I-Italy?"

Italy felt himself grow stiff. The familiar voice that he had long known and come to respect made itself present in the kitchen. Italy slowly turned his head towards the entrance and became a little flustered.

There, across from him in the kitchen stood a tall, fair-haired, blue eyed man. He was wearing a green and brown uniform as he most always did. His face was an expression of disbelief mixed with confusion as he looked at the nation cooking pasta in his kitchen. Italy was really, really happy to see Germany, but he also knew that he was in trouble. He had entered Germany's house without his permission and messed up both his bedroom and kitchen while making food with his ingredients. Italy looked at him worriedly and smiled.

"Oh! Oh, hi Germany…!" he said hesitantly. He looked at the boiling pasta. "I was just making some pasta!...Sorry about the mess in your kitchen! I promise I'll clean it up! And I might've disorganized your room when I was getting dressed but…."

"Italy?" Germany interrupted walking towards his ally. Italy got a strange feeling from how Germany was looking at him. Germany couldn't stop staring and it was really starting to worry Italy a little. Germany came up to Italy and very, very slowly reached out a hand towards him. He seemed a little shocked when his hand came into contact with Italy's chest. He pulled back, still staring in disbelief.

"You…" he stammered. "You're not a phantom? You really are here?"

"Germany," Italy tilted his head in confusion, "Germany it's just me! I know that I do some silly and strange things, but I'm not a ghost or anything!"

Germany grabbed Italy by his shoulders with an iron-like grip. Italy panicked a little from his friend's strange behavior as he bent over to look Italy desperately in the face.

"What happened? Where have you been all this time?"

"I…uh…" Italy stuttered, not sure how to answer. "I've just been…around and…"

"Did the Allies hurt you? What did they want you for?"

Italy looked at Germany with a perplexed face. "Allies? What are you talking about Germany?"

"Didn't the Allied powers kidnap you? Isn't that why you've been missing for all this time?

"What!?" Italy exclaimed, shocked by Germany's words. "Of course not! Why would you think that?"

"Then where have you been?" Germany shook Italy causing him to wince from the pain still in his ribs. "I thought you were dead! I though the Allies had taken you and done something terrible to you to try to get to me! I could barely sleep, I never was able to stop thinking about where you could be or what had happened! I was about to start a war because I thought you were their prisoner!"

"You…you were?!" Italy exclaimed baffled at how Germany would go as far as to rage war for his sake. Germany looked at him pleadingly. "Where were you? What have you been doing all this time?"

Italy looked down in shame. "Well…you see I…I sort of…well…." What was he going to tell him? He'd never believe the truth, he would just think that Italy was mocking him or something. But he couldn't just not tell him anything, could he?…Could he?

Italy looked in his best friends face. He saw so much concern and worry in them that he had not expected to find upon his return. He knew Germany cared for him as a friend and all, but he never imagined he would go this far just to know his whereabouts. Italy just stayed quiet not sure of what to say, he waited for Germany to chastise him for his insolence.

But Germany's grip loosened and his expression grew soft. He pulled Italy into a firm embrace.

"Ve?"

"It's ok Italy. Whatever the reason, I trust you have a good purpose for not telling me." Italy was almost sure he felt Germany's arm shift a little to wipe his face. "It doesn't matter. All that matters is that I have my friend back unharmed."

"Germany..." Italy felt his heart ache a little. He had caused Germany so much worry and thought he wasn't even thinking of him. Italy hugged Germany back and started letting a couple tears slip out of his little, closed, Italian eyes. He was so glad that he had as wonderful a friend as Germany to care about him so much, even if he was only a useless weakling.

The two stayed in a solid, brotherly embrace until Germany spoke up again.

"Um…Italy…" Germany sniffed. "I hate to break the mood and all but….why do you smell like wurst?"

"Oh! Um," Italy slipped out of their bro-hug and pressed his two index fingers against each other nervously. "I…I guess I must have really eaten more of your sausages than I thought!"

Germany frowned and furrowed his brows. "But I've been completely out of wurst since last week with all my running around! Besides, it doesn't smell like you ate sausages, _you_ smell like sausages! Your entire body reeks of it!"

"R-really?" Italy laughed nervously, "I…I guess I was flinging around more spices than I guessed! Heh heh hehe…"

Germany looked at Italy skeptically, but seeing the goofy expression on his face, he decided to drop it and came up with a new question.

"Italy. You were talking to someone when I came in. Who was it?"

"Ve? Oh well, I was talking to Am-uh…I was talking to the cat!"

"Katze?" Germany raised an eyebrow.

"Si!" Italy nodded. "I was actually making pasta for us both since we were both hungry! But I made lots, so there's plenty to go around!"

Italy got pasta into three bowls and carried them all to the living room. One in his left hand, one in his right, and one balanced on his head. Germany had seen him do this a few times, but he still felt uneasy about the prospect of new messes in his house. However, Italy successfully made it to living room and placed the two bowls in his hands on the table and then rested the other in front of America.

"Qui siete!" Italy said merrily. "I know you haven't eaten in a while so I put a lot in for you! Buon appetito!"

"_Thanks man! I'm starved!_" America grinned and dug his way into the pasta bowl. Italy went to eating his own dish happily while Germany just stared at the cat, amazed at how fast he consumed the food.

"Mein Gott!" Germany exclaimed. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that cat was a wolf with the way he eats!"

"Well, he is hungry!" Italy said trying not to arouse too much suspicion. Germany was about to sit down and eat when he started to notice something a little familiar about his feline house guest.

"Hey Italy," Germany muttered while scratching his chin. "It might sound strange, but I have a feeling that I've seen this cat somewhere before."

Italy started to get a little worried. "Well uh, a lot of cats do look like him! lo sai?"

"I guess but," he started really looking closely at America's face. America was feeling a little uneasy and swallowed hard.

"_Um, buddy? There's this new thing going around, it's called personal space!_"

Germany gave up and sat back in his armchair. "Oh well, I guess it's just my imagination." He dismissed and was about to start eating his plate of pasta when a knock came at the door. Everyone looked up at the noise.

"Ve? Who is that?" Italy asked.

"Hang on Italy, I've got it." Germany got up and went to the front door. As he anticipated, Japan was waiting with a solid, emotionless expression on his face.

"Kon'nichiwa Doitsu. I have come by to ask in what way you want us to strike this Friday since it is the deadline."

Germany smiled, "There will be no attack, nor will there be a war. Italy is back."

Japan raised his eyebrows in surprise. "What? Italy is back? Where was he?"

Germany looked down "I don't know, it doesn't appear that he wants to talk about it but," he raised his eyes. "But I am just happy that he has returned and I don't have to fulfill my threat."

"Hai, that is good. I am glad things could resolve themselves so well."

"Hey Japan!" came a voice from inside. The two serious nations turned to see their third ally as he danced up to the door waving his arms like a little bird. "It's good to see you again Japan! We're having pasta to celebrate! You want to join us in the fun?"

"Well, I don't have any business, and since that was such a kind gesture, it would be impolite for me to refuse."

"Then come on in! Pasta for everyone! He he!" Italy sang as he bounced back inside. Germany sighed and looked to Japan.

"Sorry about that, I don't know how to manage that bottled-up energy of his."

"Italy will be Italy. It's hard to make him anything else." Japan said simply. Germany nodded with a small smile.

"Ja, no question there."

Japan and Germany went back inside and sat down in the living room as Italy went and got two more bowls of pasta (he had to get a second because America had finished and wanted more). Japan in the meantime, couldn't stop staring at America. America was trying to ignore it, but those blank, samurai eyes were just too hard to ignore.

"_Dude! Why does everyone want to stare at me like that? It's so freaky man!_"

"I have seen that cat." Japan said finally, "Yes I am sure of it. Back during New Year's. I saw him with a little brown calico cat as well. How on earth did he get here?"

"Wait," Germany interjected. "A calico cat you say?"

"Hai. It was small and Kawaī."

"Was it a light brown? Like a tan color?"

"Why yes." Japan replied. Both America and Italy got a little nervous from this conversation.

"It didn't have brown patches on its head and back right?" Germany asked.

"Well actually it did. And not only that, I remember it having a strange curl on its head."

"Almost like…" Germany and Japan both glanced to Italy. The curl waived in the air and Italy was trying to find the right words to say.

"Ve! It sure sounds like a cute little cat! I wish I had been around to see it!"

"You know what's strange?" Germany pointed out, "It seems that this cat here was with the calico cat when I ran into it and when you ran into it too Japan. Isn't that strange?"

"Yes." Japan acknowledged. "It is a little odd. I wonder what happened to the other one?"

"_Oh boy, it would be problematic if they recognized me!_" America thought to himself. "_I mean, God knows what they would do with that kind of knowledge! Hope the Italy dude doesn't blow my cover._"

Suddenly, another knock at the door came. Japan rose.

"I will get it." He offered and walked off to the door. Germany was staring at America again while the cat just tried to ignore him the best he could. Japan soon came back in the living room and gestured to the hallway.

"Spain-san is here. He wanted to speak with you Germany."

"Hola mis amigos!" A cheery face entered the room. "I just wanted to come over and…."

Spain stopped the moment he saw Italy crouched on the floor. His eyes went wide.

"Little Italy?" he gasped. "But I thought you were missing!"

"He was, but he just came back today. Don't ask him about where he's been or anything like that, it makes him unconformable."

"I see, but still!" Spain went over and ruffled Italy's hair with a big grin on his face. "It's maravilloso to see you back safe and sound! Romano must be so pleased!"

"Romano?" Italy questioned. Spain looked down at him and then around at everyone else. "Romano's here isn't he?"

"No!" Germany shook his head. "Why would he be here?"

"Well, that's actually why I came over. You see Romano had gotten really upset the other day and was talking to himself about a lot of loco nonsense! Something about ruins, and throwing a rock, and Italy getting himself into trouble? It didn't make a whole lotta' sense to me, but he left in a huff and sounded pretty upset. I heard him mention you since he started muttering 'potatoes' a bit near the end."

"That sounds like Romano talking about Germany!" Italy smiled.

"Anyway, I came here as soon as I could so I could stop him from doing something silly and reckless. But I guess he wasn't coming here after…"

A loud crash of the front door stopped Spain's explanation as the sound of boots clomped into the house.

"Alright! Where is he? Where's the jackass?!"

Sure enough, Romano marched into the living room and glared at Germany. "You better tell me what they hell happened between you and my little brother! You really are a sick man, you know that you potato-loving bastard!"

Germany shook his head and looked at Romano confused. "What on earth are you talking about? I have no idea what had happened to Italy!"

"That's what you'd like me to think isn't it you damn bastard!"

"Don't get mad!" Italy said gently to his brother. "Germany is telling the truth! He really doesn't know anything about what happened!"

Romano stood in complete shock when he saw his little brother sitting at the table, eating pasta, and smiling like the idiot he was. For a moment, he was unable to move or do anything. Everyone else in the room was expecting a little bit of sentiment to arise between the reunited brothers. But they were sorely mistaken.

Roman reached down, grabbed Italy by the collar and started shaking him violently.

"You little bastard!" Romano barked into his brother's face. "What the hell kind of a stunt are you trying to pull on me?!"

"Big brother I can't breathe! I can't breathe!" Italy gasped.

"You better start talking right now! You just disappear for two months straight! I don't hear even so much as a call from you and then the next thing I know, your wandering around Pompeii as some stray damn cat and run the hell away from me! And now you just pop back to normal and expect me to let it go?! What the damn hell is wrong with you, you idiot!"

"Romano! Romano don't be so rough on him!" Spain urged putting Romano into a full nelson and dragging him away,

"Let go of me you tomato-bastard! I didn't say you could get involved! This is between me and Veneziano! Let go of me!"

"Italy, what is he talking about?" Germany asked. Italy got a little flustered.

"Oh, uh, I have no idea Germany! I think he's just a little confused like all of us here!"

"The hell I am!" Romano shouted as he ripped free from Spain. He glared at his little brother while he pointed a finger threateningly at his head. "You are a jerk you know that?! You might've wanted to let me know it was you on that roof before I threw that rock! I could've killed you, you know!"

"Rock? Roof? What are you talking about Romano?" Spain asked.

Romano rolled his eyes and looked to everyone else "When I was in Pompeii, I saw a tan calico cat with brown patches on its head and back! I threw a rock at it and hit it in the side! That cat was Veneziano!"

"What are you going on about?" Japan muttered. He turned to Italy. "Is he saying he hurt you Italy?"

"No! No! He hurt some strange cat! Not me! I feel perfectly fine!"

"Perfectly fine huh?" Romano sneered. "Then I'm sure you won't mind if I do this!" Romano jabbed three fingers into his brother's side.

"OWOWOUCH! OW THAT REALLY HURTS!" Italy screamed as he writhed on the ground in pain. Romano flailed his pointed finger at his brother furiously.

"I knew it! You were that cat weren't you, you…._you_…**_you_**!"

Romano had at that moment spotted America curled up on the couch. He didn't need another look to tell it was the same cat that had been with his brother back in Pompeii. America realized things were getting a little out of hand.

"_Oh hell!_" he thought just before Romano's hand came and snatched him around his neck. America squirmed and yowled from pain. "_Ow! Owow! Hey man! Ouch! Come on, that hurts!_"

"And you!" Romano continued shaking America in his hand. "You've caused me a lot of problems you know! Making my little idiot brother run off with you like that away from his fratello! Not only that but that cut you gave me really hurt you damn bastard! I nearly bled to death from that damn cut your little smart-ass gave to me!" Romano waived his injured hand, which was still bandaged, in front of America to make a point.

"_Oh don't be such a wuss! I wouldn't even call that a flesh wound!_"

"Oh Romano! Don't do that fratello! It's not America's fault! He just didn't know what to do! He was in just as bad a situation as me and then we had to deal with a lot more before….!"

Italy slammed his hands over his mouth once he realized what he just said. Everyone stopped and stared at Italy and then looked back at America in complete shock of the epiphany that fell over them all.

"_Well._" America sighed. "_Guess that cat's out of the bag."_


	15. Big Brother Britain

**Ok, so apparently I PO'ed a lot, LOT of people with those two dud chapters. I took them down because someone told me they were against web-site rules or something like that, I don't really know. Anyway it doesn't matter that much to me so I just removed them because they were pretty annoying as it was. I actually was surprised to find that the "Haha it was just a joke" chapter got so many reviews of angry readers. Seriously, I got more comments on that chapter than the others combined. Go figure.**

**Anyway, this chapter here was supposed to cover a lot more, but I was shocked at finding how long it turned out so I just cut it off which means you guys get another chapter to obsess over (haha, like that would happen). In any case, there's probably about two more chapters after this if my calculations are right. I've got some college exams to prepare for so they might not come out for a while, but rest assured, I will finish this as soon as possible.**

**Anyway, enjoy the chapter. Play disclaimer!**

* * *

**I DO NOT own Hetalia or any of its characters.**

**...nor do I claim to own the history of the world...:3**

* * *

There was nothing but silence in the room. Horrid, deafening silence. Everyone was just staring with gaping mouths and blank white, shocked eyes at Italy and America. Even the composed nation of Japan what unable to contain his surprise. For a while, no one dared move until America started squirming, still clutched within Romano's grip. Italy scooped him up and backed away from the rest of the group until his back hit the wall. Everyone was still staring at the two of them in shock.

"Italy…" Germany said slowly trying to keep his temper. "What is going on?"

Italy looked down at America and hissed to him "Ve! What should I do?"

"_We'll you kinda' made a stupid move asking me! You can't understand what I'm saying and you just confirmed I'm not some dumb cat to those guys in the process! Congratulations bonehead!_"

"Hey Italy." Spain said gently opening a hand out to him. "Why do you just tell us what happened? We don't care, we just want to know."

Italy looked down sadly and let out a concerned sigh. He put America down and scuffed a shoe against the floor.

"Well, I was walking by myself after trying to run away from Germany's training. I ended up by Britain's house and saw him leave his key in the flowerpot, so I came up to his house when he left and then…."

Italy told them the entire story from beginning to end in full detail. He told them about wandering through Britain's house, about the sack, about America, and about waking up as cats. He told them how they found the list and had to collaborate in order to get the ingredients. Italy mentioned how they had to run around from Germany's place to France's, to Russia's, to China's, to Japan's, to America's, and back to Italy's place before heading to Germany's home. He told them why he was changed back and why America wasn't. He continued until he ended up right where they were at the moment.

When he finished, his face flushed a little and he looked down a little embarrassed at how ridiculous the whole thing sounded. When he heard it come from his own mouth, he had trouble believing it himself. He poked his fingers together waiting for his friends to react.

"Well," Japan said calmly, once again returned to his calm composure. "That explains quite a bit."

"Si!" Spain laughed cheerily, "That was a great story! You must've had a lotta' fun going to all those places and seeing all those things! Wish I'd been there!"

"I—I guess." Italy muttered "I didn't really see it as 'fun' at the time."

Romano leapt up from his seat and hit his little brother on the head.

"Ve! What was that for?" Italy cried as his head started to smart.

"You spent all that time screwing around when you could've just come to me and had the whole thing fixed! You really are an idiot!"

"Hey come on Romano!" Spain laughed placing a hand on his underling's shoulder. "You have to admit that it was pretty brave of your little brother to want to do it on his own! Besides, according to what I've heard, you didn't exactly throw much of a welcome part for him! You threw a rock at him instead!"

Romano's face grew red. "Hey! How was I supposed to know right off the bat it was Veneziano!? If I had gotten a closer look first, I wouldn't have done that!" Romano glared at Germany. "Besides, I wasn't the only one who gave my brother a rough time! This potato-loving-bastard threw him aside like garbage! If anyone should be given a hard time it's you, you damn jerk!"

"Romano please!" Italy pleaded. "Germany isn't to blame! He didn't do anything wrong! I was the one who was…"

"Italy, your brother is right."

Italy turned his head worriedly as Romano was shocked from someone actually admitting he was correct. Germany looked down, a little ashamed.

"Romano, what you say is true. I had no right to do those acts back in Hamburg Port. Poor Italy had come to me seeking help and I tossed him aside like the animal I assumed him to be. I just can't believe I would do something like that. And furthermore because of my shortsightedness, I caused all the other nations strife as well. Perhaps if I had just opened my eyes and recognized you back then, I wouldn't have had to put the rest of us in danger like that."

Italy put a hand on Germany's back. "Ve! Don't say that! I would've been no better if it had been you in my place! I probably would've made things a mess if you were gone for that long!"

"You know," Spain smiled ruffling Romano's hair. "I'm starting to wish that Romano had been turned into a cat instead of you Italy!"

"What?!" Romano shrieked. "Why the hell would you wish for something like that you damn tomato-bastard?!"

"Because!" Spain grinned, poking Romano's cheek as if he were a little child again. "I would've have loved to see how cute you would have been! Imagine! I could call you 'my little Romano' again and it would be just like when you were a little pequeño niño! Only this time, we'd be Spain the Boss and GatitoRomano!"

"Stop touching me bastard!" Romano flustered waving his arms defensively over his head. "You've got some pretty damn weird ideas in that smiling blimp you call a head, jackass!"

"While we are on the subject of nekos" Japan made himself heard, "We still have a problem we need to address."

"Ja." Germany nodded, "We still have to figure out what to do with our little…"

Everyone turned to look where America had last been, but all that was left was the dashed outline of where he should have sat. Germany jumped up from his seat in shock.

"Was?! Where the hell is he?!"

America meanwhile, during the time Italy was telling his story, had managed to evade everyone's attention and slowly slipped into the next room. As soon as he was sure he wasn't noticed, he went to the front door and started looking for a way to get out. He looked at the windows, but they were all closed and locked and his little paws couldn't open them. He jumped up on a small table on the front door and tried to turn the handle as best he could. Sadly, it was a round doorknob and America only found himself getting more and more frustrated as he tried.

"_Come on…grnn!...Ah! Slipped again!...Now just hold it an….slowly…dang it!_"

America sat and looked at his paws angrily. "_What's the matter with you? It's a doorknob! Just grab and turn! Grab and turn! It's not that hard!_"

America placed his paws on the door knob and tried again, his ears twitching as his tail flopped around in irritation.

"_Honestly man!_" he grumbled, "_How do cats expect to do anything with these? I have to get out of this Axis fest before…_"

"There he is!" a harsh voice sounded. America looked guiltily back to see Italy, Germany, Japan, Spain, and Romano all looking at him intently from across the foyer. America swallowed hard.

"_Uh oh! Time to split!_" America jumped down and ran as fast as he could past the legs of the other nations.

"Get him!" Germany ordered, "Don' let the Kraut get away!"

What ensued was a long and drawn out chase scene in which everyone was trying to get a hold of America. Italy tried to gently capture him, which didn't work much at all. Germany was trying to seize a hold of him any way possible. Spain was trying to jump on top of him and hold him down, Romano was trying to snatch him by the scruff and Japan….

Well, Japan was a really reserved in this chase feeling awkward about the whole thing.

In any case, this Ring-around-the-Rosie was taken around the whole first floor of the house and everyone failed to grab America by whatever method they used. America had run around for some time, so he decided to bolt upstairs and the game soon turned into hide and seek. Everyone was looking for him in all the rooms. America had waited until everyone was upstairs in different rooms before sneaking back down and hiding under one of the couches. He had his back close to the edge so he could see at the widest angle possible.

"_Geez! Five against one! The odds aren't stacked in this hero's favor!_" he muttered to himself. "_But I can't give up! I need to escape and get to Iggy as soon as possible! I don't know how, but I've got to make him recognize me! This all began at his house so maybe he knows another way to zap me back to…_"

America was stopped midway when he felt a crushing pain behind him. He might've managed to squeeze under the couch, but he had forgotten to hide one prominent feature.

"_The tail! Why is it always the friggin' tail?!_" he moaned. He grit his teeth from the tremendous pain as he tried to resist being drug out from underneath the couch. It was a pity for him that it was Germany who had decided to check downstairs again and saw his tail swaying out from underneath the couch. He has seized it with his iron-like grip and dragged America mercilessly from under the couch and lifted him upside down by his tail.

"Got you, you little kraut." He glared at America. America swallowed hard and really started to feel for the first time just how small, powerless, and vulnerable he really was.

"Oi jeder! I caught him!" Germany called up to the rest of the gang. Everyone came downstairs in their own fashion. Spain bounced cheerily down followed by the slouched Romano who followed at a mediocre pace with his hands in his pockets. Italy stumbled down nearly losing his footing while Japan went down in a very composed and refined manner. They all came into the room with Germany and looked at America who felt pretty trapped at the moment hanging upside down with all these powerful nations (except for the obvious duds) around him.

"Yoi shigoto Doitsu." Japan commended quietly.

"Now what should we do with him?" Spain asked while scratching his head. Romano got a devious look in his eye.

"I say we teach him a lesson for giving me this cut and putting my brother through all that crap!"

"_Oh come on!_" America mewed annoyed. "_If anyone put anyone through that ordeal, it was your brother! He was the one plundering Iggy's place!_"

"Don't you understand?" Germany said very gravely as he held America up. America looked towards him fearfully. "He is the most powerful nation in the Allies, possibly the world! We have a very rare chance before us. If we ever have to face against other the countries in a fight, he's going to be the most formidable opponent. But here we have him, completely unable to fight just sitting in our lap."

"_Or hanging by the tail!_" America winced as the pain was still very much present. America had feared the Axis powers would attempt something like this which was why he had been so set on getting away from them. Right now, he was completely under their thumb. Whatever they wanted to do with him they were very much capable of doing and no one would be able to help him.

Italy flung himself at Germany and shook him pleadingly. "Ve! Germany no! You can't do that! You just can't!"

Germany looked at Italy with a surprised expression. Italy drew back a little as tiny droplets formed at the corners of his eyes. "Non è giusto! It's not fair! He went through so much to get us both back to normal and keep me safe the whole time! He even gave up his own chance to return just so I would! Don't you see? We can't turn on him like this! It's not right!"

"Are you an idiot Veneziano?!" Romano spat at his little brother. "The damn bastard is sitting in our hands and you want to just let him go?!"

"As much as I see the concern and reason behind your notion Germany," Japan spoke up, "I have to agree with Italy. It is not honorable."

Germany looked at his two allies in thought, looked at America, then looked back to them again. He sighed deeply. "You're right, I don't know what I was thinking."

Romano stared at Germany. "What! Don't tell me your agreeing with them you potato bastard!"

"I have to." Germany admitted. "They are completely right. America risked his own life for Italy and had to sacrifice his humanity because of it. It would be deceitful and low for us to take advantage of him like this after what he's done. Besides, I was ready to start a war because Italy was missing. I didn't want to get involved in another such fight, but I was ready to for Italy's sake at any cost. I would only be provoking another war even more so if I were to keep America from the Allies as I believed they were doing with Italy."

"Well then!" Spain said merrily laughing. "I guess we're going to help him get back to normal then right?"

"Che? You too Spain?!" Romano fumed. He crossed his arms miserably and sneered. "Fine! I'll help the little bastard!"

"Ve!" Italy smiled, "Grazie! Grazie everyone!"

"_Hey, not that I don't appreciate that you're not gonna' keep me hostage or anything, but could you please let go!_" America mewled feverously.

"Err…I think he wants you to put him down." Japan mentioned sensing America's mood.

"Oh! Right, sorry about that." Germany set America down gently on the floor. America melted to the ground once he felt the pain leave him. He glared at Germany and started ranting loudly at him as everyone watched him curiously. However, the only thing everyone could hear was a stream of loud and annoying cat sounds.

"America please!" Italy bent down imploringly. "Don't get mad at Germany! He didn't really mean anything by it! He didn't know!"

"It's strange to think that this cat's really America!" Spain pointed out staring down at him. "But his loud talkative nature certainly gives his real identity away!"

"Ja." Germany nodded. "It would be hard to recognize him by sight alone, but his personality does give a kind of clue of who he is."

America finished his rant and got to his feet with a determined look in his face. "_Before anything else, there's something very important that must be done!_"

America suddenly bolted out of the room. Everyone looked up in shock as he ran.

"Ah! Where's the kraut headed now?"

"I think he must've remembered something! Perhaps it is important information!" Japan suggested.

Everyone followed him thinking that he had gone to fetch some important information. However, they all ended up running in the kitchen to find America head first in the cauldron of Italy's pasta with his rear sticking out as he scarfed it all down.

"_Ah man! I'm so hungry! I need to get some food in me!_"

Everyone groaned in irritation and looked blankly at the cat. "Yeah," they all said in unison, "That's definitely America."

"Ve! My pasta!" Italy cried in despair.

America looked up at the other nations with three strips of pasta hanging halfway out of his little mouth. "_Oh sorry guys! You want some?_"

About three minutes later, possibly two, America let out a satisfied, full sigh.

"_Mmm! That was great man!_" he groaned in contentment. Germany looked at the pot and then at America in shock.

"How the hell did you fit all that food into that tiny body?!"

America looked at Germany disapprovingly.

"_Seriously! Would you people stop calling me little!_"

"Well, we still have to figure out what we are to do." Japan reminded. "There must be some way to help him."

"Ja, the problem is we don't know how."

Spain looked to Italy. "Hey Italy! You said that you had to collect all those materials you mentioned before in order to change back! Perhaps we could just collect them all again and do the same thing for America!"

"Wow, came up with that all by yourself huh tomato-bastard?" Romano grumbled.

"Well, I don't know if we can do that." Italy bowed his head sadly, "Some of them we could probably get again, but lot of items we were extremely lucky to even stumble upon let alone get. I don't know if we could get them again that easily."

"Hai." Japan nodded placing a finger to his chin. "It would seem that you were in very precise conditions for a lot of those ingredients. It might not be even possible for us to find them again for a long time."

America sat on his haunches and waived his paws in the air mewing loudly. Everyone turned their attention to him and stared. They gathered around him and looked at him curiously.

"I think he's trying to tell us something!" Spain muttered.

"Really?" Romano squinted irritably, "I thought he was trying to play the damn guitar, jackass!"

America leapt down and ran off again. Everyone looked surprisingly at him and followed him as he ran around the house. First he ran upstairs and into Germany's bedroom.

"I swear!" Germany frowned, "If this is about food again, I'll skin that pelt right off his back!"

But when they came into the room, they found America pulling out and searching through the nightstands by Germany's bed. America acted as if he was searching frantically for something in particular as he shuffled his paws around the materials in the drawer.

"What the hell is that damn bastard trying to do?" Romano scoffed.

"It appears he's looking for something."

"What could he possibly want that would be in my drawers?" Germany mumbled.

America looked up and examined the room looking for more places to search. But once he found that nothing else really worked, he bowed his head in thought. His ears and face perked up and he ran back downstairs.

"Ehrlich! What the hell is he doing?"

They all went back downstairs and followed the noise as they saw America running around Germany's office. This was where Germany crossed the line.

"Nein! Not my office!" He went over and picked America up (properly this time) and removed him from his office. He closed the door firmly. "I don't care if you are a cat! You are not seeing anything in there!"

"_Oh come on!_" America squirmed, "_I wasn't even looking at your stuff! I just need to find…_"

America's eyes suddenly caught something resting in the corner and he got excited. He waved his paws towards it desperately. Germany, seeing that he was gesturing towards someplace other than his office, put him back down. America ran over to a wooden box in the corner and pulled it out with his teeth. Everyone came over to see what it was.

"Ve!" Italy exclaimed, "My sketch box!" He bent down and helped America by unlocking the clips keeping it closed. America stuck his face in and moved the supplies around with his paw until he found what he was looking for. He picked up a stick of black, wax-bound charcoal in his mouth and took it to the wall. Germany instantly could tell what he was trying to do.

"Nein! Not my walls either!" he said pulling America back. America grumbled as he looked at Germany. Germany glared equally back at him. "Can't you communicate to us without destroying my house?"

"Here!" Italy smiled sliding a white canvas towards the cat. "You can use that!"

"_Meh, I guess it works._" America shrugged. He went over and started to carefully drag the charcoal over the white canvas. Everyone looked at what he was writing. Even though they knew it was America, it was still fascinating to see a cat write. Very slowly, the big, wobbly words began to appear. It was in English, but everyone could understand it pretty well, even Romano. America stepped back and revealed his masterpiece. Words looking like a four-year old had scribbled them lay on the canvas and read

"GET IGGY"

"Iggy?" Spain scratched his head.

"That's what America calls Britain!" Italy explained. Germany furrowed his brow and looked at America, "But why would you want us to get him of all people?"

"I think I know why." Japan said softly. "Didn't Italy say something about retrieving an item from Britain's house? That item supposedly was what changed them into cats. I assume that America wants us to go to him because he might know what to do."

"Of course!" Spain smiled, "That makes perfect sense!"

"Then why didn't you think of it before, bastard!" Romano frowned.

Germany went to the phone and reached for it. He hesitated before picking it up and slowly dialing. All was silent as everyone heard the monotone ring. There was a click as someone on the other end picked up.

"Hello? Who is this?" a British accent sounded.

"It's me, Germany."

Silence reigned on the line. "Can't let up huh?"

Germany was taken aback. "I, I beg your pardon?"

"A few meager days left before you get us back into another brawl, and you can't even let me have some piece in that short time."

"What are you…" Germany suddenly remembered, "Oh nein! Nein! The war is not going to happen!"

"Don't you try joshing me!" Britain shouted. "This fight's bad enough as it is!"

"I'm being serious! Italy is back with me right now! He's standing right next to me!"

"What?!"

Germany took his mouth away from the phone. "Italy! Come over here and let Britain know you're safe!"

Italy bounced over and practically shouted into the microphone. "Ve! Germany's telling the truth! I really am back and I'm ok! You don't need to worry anymore about fighting! Everything is just fine! Why the other day…"

"There, you see?" Germany said taking the phone away from Italy who was about to start on a nonsensical ramble. "Italy's fine so the war is off. He told me you were not responsible so I offer my sincerest apologies. I rendered myself an ass."

"Indeed." Britain scoffed. He then sighed, "All the same, I am quite relieved. And I do accept your apology. Unfortunately, I'm afraid that I still have a lot of business left. I need to find out where America is and get him…"

"That's actually why I called you." Germany interrupted. "You see….America is with us right now and he's a…."

Germany felt something tug on his pants. He looked down and saw America trying to get his attention and shaking his head furiously. Germany looked at his in confusion before getting back to the phone.

"Ja, he's a…He's with us right now. But rest assured he's perfectly fi…" Germany hesitated as he looked back at America. "He's…He's not sick or injured in any way."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "I don't believe you."

"What?"

"If America is really with you, and he's really fine as you say, then let me hear his voice! Let him talk to me!"

Germany started breaking into a cold sweat. He looked around at the other nations who were just as equally nervous. They had heard what Britain had said and were waiting to see what Germany would say.

"I…I'm sorry but, I can't do that. He's here but he can't speak with you right now."

"Fine!" Britain snarled, "If that's how you want to play, then…"

"Listen!" Germany barked into the phone slamming his hand on the table. "I don't want any trouble! I want to give him back to you! He needs your help and we don't know what to do! We don't want to fight or hurt him alright! Just let us bring him to you!"

Britain stayed silent again for a very, very long time. Germany and the other nations all waited desperately for his response. There was the sound of shifting on the other end.

"Meet me in front of my house with America. No funny business." The line clicked as Britain hung up.

Germany set down the phone and sighed. He turned and looked at everyone else, then he looked down at America who was still sitting by his boot.

"Why? Why didn't you want me to tell him that you were a cat?"

America meowed very loudly and repeatedly for a while. Germany sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"It appears that you need to be reminded that neither I nor anyone else here speaks cat!"

America drooped his ears in annoyance and then hopped on the table. There was a little game of charades that followed where he tried to communicate his motive to the others. Although most of them were just looking at him like he was nuts.

"I think I know what he is trying to say." Japan said calmly. Everyone looked to him in surprise.

"Man, you're good at telling that sort of thing with him!" Spain commented. "How can you do that so well?"

"I know how to sense the mood and read people." Japan explained plainly. "That is all."

"Ve…So, what's he trying to say?" Italy asked worriedly.

"If I am correct, then America wants Britain to figure out for himself that he is America. If we just told him that America was a cat, he might've thought we were mocking him."

"_Unfortunately, Iggy's not one to be open minded when listening to others, especially when they have mega-crazy ideas. I should know from all those meetings with him._"

"I can understand that." Germany nodded dolefully. "If the situation had been reversed, I too would've probably thought of it as an insult if the Allies came to me saying Italy was a cat." Germany rose to his feet and sighed deeply. "Alright, looks like we're headed to Britain's place then."

"Oh! That's just fan-damn-tastic potato bastard!" Romano swore.

"We'll," Italy said nervously whilst scooping up America in his arms. "I guess we'd better get going."

"_Hey! Why the heck do you have to carry me?_" America squirmed, "_I have legs you know! Four of them in fact!_"

Everyone headed out together and went to the airport to catch the next plane to London. None of them typically were very air-travel type of people, but they wanted to get to Britain fast. Germany went because he felt that he was responsible for the whole thing. Italy went because he wanted to be with his friend Germany, plus he wanted to stand by America till he changed back. Romano went because his brother was going. Spain went because Romano was going. And Japan went because he felt it would be rude to just leave.

Not a lot of people were doing air travel that day which was good for the group. They all got on with ease (Italy snuck America on the way only he could with cats). And before they knew it, they were all in London and at Britain's front door. And who was waiting but the nation himself.

"Right. It seems you are here, and you brought some friends." Britain sneered. "Now where the bloody hell is America?"

America squirmed in Italy's arms and leapt out running straight to Britain. He started tugging on his pant leg desperately.

"What? What is this?" Britain muttered in surprise as he tried to shake off the strange animal on his boot. "Go away!"

"_Iggy! Iggy come on man it's me! Be a pal won't ya'? Just recognize me!_"

"What the hell is the matter with you? Get off!"

It was a little hard for the rest of the group to just sit back and watch this. Italy was a little sad because America reminded him of himself when he was trying to get Germany to recognize him back in Hamburg. Germany was ashamed because he realized that this was basically what he had done to Italy if not worse two months ago.

"_Come on Iggy! Please! I'm saying 'PLEASE' for cryin' out loud! You've gotta' recognize me now!_"

Britain grabbed America by the scruff and walked over to Italy.

"I believe this is yours." He snarled holding America out to them

Italy was practically crying as he stepped away refusing Britain. He shook his head. "He's not mine. He's not any of ours!"

Britain really started getting mad. "I'm sick of your games! I just want America! You said you'd bring him to me and I'm waiting! Where is he? Where the bloody hell is America?!"

Everyone wanted to tell, but they knew they couldn't. The only way for Britain to get it was if he saw the truth himself. America mewled desperately and sadly as he waived his paws towards his former big brother.

"_Please! Please Britain. If you're ever going to really listen to what I have to say, let it be now! I need you to see me because this time, this time I need you to be MY hero!_"

Britain looked at America in annoyance as he held him up by one hand. America was mewing his head off and it was really getting to Britain.

"Oh shut it you…!...you…."

Britain stared at America and realized that something was resting on the cat's face. America was a little surprised when Britain reached out another hand to his face and pull his glasses off. America rubbed his eyes with his little paws as his vision became poor without the spectacles on his face. Britain just stared at them for a moment.

"But…but these are….?"

Britain looked back at the cat he was holding in his hand. He was just staring at him and for the first time noticed those eyes. Those eyes which were as wide and blue as the sky itself. Those eyes that were full of an unquenchable fire burning with wonder and curiosity. Eyes that swelled with an impenetrable dream, boundless courage, and uncrushable hope. Eyes that he had seen many times over, but had never once changed throughout the test of time. Eyes that looked pleadingly at him in a way he hadn't seen since he had first met…

"Am…America?" Britain stammered the words out of his mouth.

America felt his heard leap with joy when he heard Britain say his name. The other nations watching from the background were also relieved to hear that Britain had managed to figure it out on his own. America grinned and mewled happily nodding like a bobble-head. He was just able to tell from his blurry vision that Britain's other hand was close by still holding his glasses. America managed to catch the glasses on his back foot, grab them with his forepaws and stick them back on his face. He smiled his classically big grin.

"_I knew you'd be able to guess it was me! You aren't as shallow as you make yourself out to be! For a second there, I was worried you wouldn't be able to tell who I was and…._"

America looked up at Britain's face again. But to his surprise, Britain was looking at him with a hard, heated glare. America felt a bad vibe in his stomach when he saw his face.

"You…you…." Britain hissed as he bowed his head and his face became dark as his hair draped over his face.

"_Iggy? What's…What's wrong?_"

Britain's head shot up and he brought America slightly closer to his face as he shouted in the most ungentlemanly tone straight into the cat's face.

"**You miserable, sodding, bloody wanker!**"

Britain then started shaking America even worse than Romano back at Germany's house. America yowled as he was flung mercilessly around like a rag doll. He felt as if his limbs and head were going to fly off from how terribly he was hurled around.

"You've caused me so much trouble! Up and off you went just completely neglecting what your stupid bloody actions would do for the rest of us! Here I was getting threats from all the corners of the sodding world and you! You couldn't even show your git of a face to us for one bloody minute! What the hell was so damn important that you couldn't stop being such a wanker and use that mash of oatmeal in your head you call a brain?! Bloody wanker! You Damn Bloody Wanker!"

"_B-Britain!_" America cried helplessly as he was shaken all over the place. "_Calm down! I'm sorry ok? I'm sorry! But there was a lot of crap going on! What was I supposed to do?! Call the yellow pages for 'turned-into-cat' help?! And how the heck was I supposed to know Germany was gonna' try and start a friggin' war?! It's not my….!_"

America stopped when he noticed Britain wasn't shaking him anymore. He heard the sound of sniveling and looked up. He looked in shock as he saw Britain's face twisted into a weeping mess of tears.

"_Ig-Iggy?_"

"You wanker…" Britain muttered as hot tears ran out of his emerald eyes. "…you damn bloody wanker…"

Britain brought his hand up and sat America on it so that his tail was curled up between his legs. Britain released his hold on America's scruff and wrapped gently around his back. Then all at once, Britain pulled America against his chest so that America's head sat on his right shoulder and squeezed him onto a firm embraced as he pressed his hot cheek against the furry body.

"Why?…"Britain bawled quietly. "Why didn't you just come to me? Why didn't you let me know what happened? I was starting to think….I was starting to think you were dead. I felt that you were in trouble and I hadn't been there to help you when you needed it. Why didn't you let me help you?"

America couldn't remember the last time Britain cried over him this hard. It hadn't been since they first parted ways way back in Yorktown. America felt warm, sticky tears slide down his back as Britain fell to his knees, still embracing America in his arms.

"Please…please come to me." Britain sobbed, "Come to me when you need help. Don't be such a stupid, bone-headed yank all the bloody time. Even you have your limits."

America closed his eyes and pressed his head against Britain's neck. Britain hadn't held him like this since he was a mere little boy. Even if America was a strong nation, being in Britain's arms like that, it felt safe and peaceful. He felt like….like he wasn't alone.

"_I know that Iggy._" America nestled affectionately in his big brother's arms. "_Sometimes, even the hero needs a little help._"


	16. All's Well that Ends Well

**Hey guys, guess what? Someone on DeviantArt made some illustrations for my story! **

righteouswolf./art/Italy-and-America-401947801

righteouswolf./art/Waking-up-as-cats-401948442

righteouswolf./art/SO-CLOSE-402120895

righteouswolf./art/So-Fluffy-402135812

**These links might not work, so here's another way: **_type in the first site address listed here and click on the 'righteouswolf on DeviantArt' option (should be first one there). Then go to their gallery and type in Hetalia in the search bar. the pics should appear without problem!_

**They said they'd make more so be sure to check out their page!**

**::NOTE!:: There's still more coming after this so don't dump this story just yet!**

**Well, that's about it for announcements, take it away disclaimer!**

* * *

**I DO NOT own Hetalia or any of its characters.**

**...nor do I claim to own the history of the world :3**

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"**_WHAT_**?" everyone in the room exclaimed including America.

"I'm afraid so." Britain sighed.

All of them were in Britain's parlor sitting on the couch. America also sat on the couch. He was currently leaning against the back of it with his feet spread out and his forepaws tucked into one another as one would cross their arms. His ears sagged down as his tail beat itself against the cushion between his legs. It was quite obvious he was not happy.

He was sitting amongst the Axis powers, particularly in between Germany and Italy, who sat across from Britain who was slumped against his armchair in worry.

"Ve? What do you mean you don't know how to turn him back?" Italy asked.

"I mean that I just am not sure." Britain sighed running his hand through his shaggy blonde hair. "That formula that you picked up from my cellar, it was a new concoction I was brewing. Same with that list you found inside as well, they were both new concepts I had been working on. I had brought them to the meetings in order to work on them since I'm so busy at home. America could tell you the same thing, he had managed to see it during one of our meetings. I nearly threw it at him."

"_And now I'm in the same boat regardless! The irony!_" America muttered to himself.

"The thing is," Britain continued. "I hadn't managed to create a precise antidote yet. I'd been planning to work on it, but unfortunately such a process might take a couple years to calculate and create."

"Well then, he'll just have to wait is all." Germany nodded. America growled in a catty tone and glared at him. Germany looked down uneasily at him.

"We don't have that long to wait." Japan spoke up. "Even if Britain did manage to cure him as promised, his absence would still cause some severe problems. His home would be unstable and potentially vulnerable in his state."

"Yes, that's the trouble with that idea. Unfortunately I can't think of any other way unless…."

Britain perked and stood up. He got an excited look on his face. He went to the next room, fumbled around with something and came back with a key.

"Follow me."

Everyone got up and followed him as he went to his office, pulled out a book to reveal the secret passage (he had changed it since Italy had found it out before). The bookcase opened up and revealed the hidden door. Britain wasn't really keen on showing everyone, but he figured that Italy had already told them everything so there really was no point trying to hide it. They all went down into the dark depths. Italy and Romano instantly started shaking from how frightening the room was, Japan and Spain were a little nervous and couldn't help but look around apprehensively. Even Germany couldn't stop a shiver from going down his spine.

"And I thought the potato bastard was freaky!" Romano whimpered as he clutched Spain from behind.

"Ve...Do we have to go back down here?" Italy trembled with America in his arms. "It's scary!"

"_Oh come on! My house looks scarier during Halloween!_" America scoffed, trying to convince himself he wasn't afraid. He knew Britain better than anyone and was very familiar with some of the creepy things that he kept that had scared him as a child.

"Righto! Here we are!" Britain announced, "Lux!"

The candles all lit up on their own causing everyone to nearly jump out of their skin, even Germany. This fright was enough to cause Italy to drop America right on his rear.

"Madre Santa María!" Spain exclaimed as Romano and Italy both huddled behind him. "No puedo creerlo! The candles lit up on their own!"

"Yes, that's what they're supposed to do when I say that word." Britain shrugged as if he was explaining why a light bulb turns on. He went over to the spell book he had been in the middle of writing and binding together and flipped through the pages.

"Damn! I was afraid of this, I haven't rewritten the spell into this manuscript yet!"

"Spell?" Germany furrowed his brow. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"The spell to change America back of course! What else did you think I meant?" Britain shook his head in annoyance as he started raffling through the dust covered books on the shelf, "No..no..no…Ah! Here we are!" Britain pulled down a six inch thick spell book and creaked it open. Germany shook his head in confusion.

"W-Wait, I thought that it was some of chemical reaction that changed them. From the gas bomb!"

Britain looked at Germany as if he was staring at the worlds champion idiot. He furrowed his great big eyebrows at him.

"A gas bomb…" he said mockingly slow, "You thought America and Italy…were transformed, completely and flawlessly I might add, into cats….by a _gas bomb_?"

"Well….ja!" Germany answered a little sheepishly.

Britain shook his head and looked at him with squinted eyes in disbelief. He opened his mouth more than once as if to stay something, but all that he could manage was a few grunts of exasperation. He looked down at his book and flipped through the pages. Everyone else looked over his shoulders in curiosity, except for America who was too short. Britain looked and smacked his finger against one of the pages at last.

"Found it! '_The reversion spell: this spell can reverse and hence undo a single enchantment previously cast. Will only be effective if the_'….sorry, this text is a bit rough…. '_if the subject was directly affected physically (for example: spell causes biological disease, growth or reduction in size, or physical transformation.) NOTE: will not work on any spell that does not directly affect person physically (spell that causes misfortune, physiological disease, or change in moods. For more help in this area, see 'basics of Psychology' under page 394.)_. This is it! This should change him back!"

"Wait a minute." Japan interrupted, "I'm sorry to cut you off, but are you really suggesting we use…magic? "

"No, I'm suggesting _I_ use magic. You all don't even know the basics!"

"But then, all those things you talk about. Those creatures, the chair….you were serious?"

"Oh no, I just wanted you all to think I was insane so I could-Of course I was being bloody serious you twits!"

Britain looked back at the book and turned to the next page. His face grew worrisome.

"Oh dear…" he muttered.

"_Oh dear?_" America panicked, "_What's 'oh dear'? I don't like 'oh dear'! Someone tell me what 'oh dear' is!_"

"What's wrong?" Germany asked.

"Damn! I was afraid of this." Britain murmured. "That's why I'm so busy at home re-writing my spell books. The text here is pretty worn, I can barely make it out. Bloody hell, this is bad."

"Ve! Because you won't be able to work the spell to turn America back?" Italy asked.

"Well, we can still try regardless. The problem is if we get even one thing wrong, it could badly affect America."

"How so?" Japan asked. "What sort of consequences are we facing?"

"Worse case scenario," Britain bit his lip. "It'll kill him."

"_And ladies and gentlemen, you've been a wonderful crowd! But I believe it's high time I pulled out of this joint!_"

America instantly started to head for the stairs. However, Italy saw him and grabbed him.

"Ve! America where are you going?"

"_Hmmf! Let me go man!_" America squirmed. The other countries gathered trying to calm America down.

"Please, stay calm!" Japan urged, "I'm sure it's not really that bad!"

"_Oh, of course not! I'm sure if I can try hard enough I can think of something worse than death!_"

"Mein Gott man!" Germany barked. "Show some backbone, would you!"

"_Easy for you to say, bro!" _America yowled as he continued to try and escape their grasp. _"You're not facing the idea of being a corpse!_"

Britain could soon see that nothing was being accomplished by the others. He came over and pulled America from Italy's arms. He held him up with both hands and looked at him sternly.

"Listen, I don't like this any more than you do, but do you honesty want to spend the rest of your life running around on all fours and catching rats for a profession?"

America stopped squirming. He looked down discouraged as his ears lowered in depression. The answer was as obvious as the question was rhetorical.

"_No._" he sighed deeply.

"I didn't think so." Britain nodded. He looked at America gently and lowered him to the ground. Britain could see how worried and troubled America was as he stared down at his paws. He gave the little furry head a few pets.

"Now, now." He tried to comfort, "Don't be like that. It's unbecoming of you. You're a brave chap, this should be nothing for a 'hero' like you! Things will work out just fine, in a minute or two, you'll be as right as rain! So chin up you ol' Yank."

"_Ok but…" _America frowned._ "I'm still a bit nervous about this whole plan. Nervous? Whom I kidding, I could die!_"

"Alright" Britain stood up, "First off, I need to figure out what the list asks for. Hey! Pasta brothers!"

The two Italians ducked behind Spain and Germany respectively when they heard Britain call for them. Britain's hand met his face as he groaned in irritation. "Listen, I need you two to assist me with this! It's in Latin so you two should be able to help!"

"Oh yeah, like I would ever help you, you damn brow-bastard!" Romano shouted from behind Spain.

"Ve…I guess I could try." Italy shakily agreed. He and Britain went over the list in the beaten old book and one by one got the ingredients. Britain wrote them down for better legibility as they went through them. They came across a couple where they had a hard time figuring it out, but eventually they came to the end and Britain reviewed the ingredients he had listed in the new version of his spell book.

"Right! Both of you!" He said point to Germany and Spain. "Get that big cauldron in the corner over here! Japan, get a fire going! You two!" he pointed to the Italian brothers "Stand over there out of the way!"

Germany and Spain dragged the iron pot in front of the big circle as Japan lit a fire under it. As quick as a flash, Britain began throwing in ingredients faster than anyone else could follow. Soon the cauldron was sizzling with a neon cobalt color. Britain picked America up and put him in the center of the circle.

"Don't move from that spot!" Britain ordered fiercely.

"_Ok geez!_" America agreed, "_You don't need to scream it in my face!_"

Britain went in front of the cauldron and flipped the spell book open to the incantation page. In a loud voice he began to chant the words:

"_Audite me! fascinatio amplius desideretur! Recesserimus vobiscum ut ieiunium ut fulgur! Corpora fundat ex quibus levari, hoc est scriptor cacabum super contentis!_"

Everyone stood back and watched in amazement and terror as sparks started flying from the pot and green fire rose from the cracks around America. America felt his heart beat hard, but he closed his eyes tightly and planted his feet, not daring to move. To the shock of everyone, Britain kicked the cauldron hard and sent its contents pouring over America and the circle. The moment this happened, the liquid turned to a thick blue smoke that billowed up from the ring. Britain looked back down at the text and recited.

_"Feci sicut maligna est opus carmine fuit! Nunc vobiscum! Evanescunt et fuge!"_

Once these words were spoken, a huge bang and a powerful puff of power knocked everyone to the floor. When they finally got to their feet, the room was drifting with a thick leftover fog that very slowly cleared away. Everyone was hacking and coughing like mad from the air.

"Ameri-hack!" Britain coughed. "America!"

"Is everyone alright?" Germany asked.

"I'm alright." Japan responded.

"Ve! I'm," Italy coughed. "I'm ok too!"

"Estoy bien así!" Spain announced. "Romano is fine as well!"

"I'll be the judge of that you tomato bastard!" Romano barked before hacking his head off. "Damn this smoke! You'd think the house was burning down!"

"It seems to be clearing up though." Germany observed as he gradually started to see more of the room.

"But what about America?" Britain asked desperately. "America! America!"

The six looked towards the other end of the room. They started to see a short silhouette appear and heard loud coughing. They could see it slowly rise up and grow tall.

"For pete's sake!" a familiar voice rang out. "This is worse than the smoke from San Francisco back in 1906! What were you trying to do, fix me or cook? It was difficult to tell!"

The smoke completely cleared and everyone could see each other clearly. America looked up at the others and got an expression of surprise on his face. He blinked for a minute in silence before quietly muttering.

"Wow…did you guys shrink or something?"

Everyone was practically hit in the face with how stupid this statement was.

Britain leapt up. "You bloody git, what kind of question is that?! We didn't shrink! You just-"

"Jesus, Mary, Joseph!" America exclaimed backing into the wall at the far end. "How'd the ground get for friggen' far away?!"

America then froze when he looked down again. He started to flex his toes on one foot and then on the other. It made his heart leap seeing those human toes respond to his commands. He slowly looked up at his good ol' legs which had carried him along faithfully throughout history. He looked down at his torso and chest and couldn't help but feel to see if it was really his. However, when he did, he was instantly captivated by his hands. Those magnificent, hardworking hands that never failed him. He held them in front of his face and moved each his fingers in every possible way they could bend.

At last, America brought his hands up to his face. By the time he had finished feeling his facial features, he had a big, fat grin plastered on his face. He knew he probably looked like a complete goof, but he had something that was just swelling up inside of him and it only got bigger and bigger. He started to walk a few steps to see if his body worked the same way as he could remember. Other than being a little disoriented by the sudden change, he was able to walk and move with absolutely no trouble. He had taken three steps before he felt that thing swell up in his chest. He clutched his hands into fists and tried to seal his lips, but it was completely futile. With one big burst of energy, he started waiving his hands in the air and jumping around like a jackrabbit on caffeine.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" He laughed louder than thunder, "I'm back! I'm back to being me again! The hero is back! I'm back! I'm really, really back! HAHAHAHAHA!"

However some of those in the room, particularly Germany and Japan (especially Japan), couldn't watch the nation's celebration like this.

"Mein Gott man!" Germany shouted as he flung a pair of trousers and a white shirt at him (he had been the only one who had considered clothes out of everyone there) "Put some damn clothes on!"

"Oh dear…oh dear…" Japan flustered as he turned around and covered his head with his hands. Spain and Italy looked at them both like they were severely overreacting to the situation.

"Ok, ok!" America consented, still smiling widely as he slipped on the pants. When he finished, he was about to reach for the shirt on the floor when a look of realization came on his face. He stood back up and started rubbing his lower back. He patted it several times, trying to bite back the chuckles that were squeezing out of his throat.

"What the hell is so bloody funny?" Britain fumed getting irritated by America's ridiculously good humor.

"Dudes! It's not there!" America laughed. "It's gone! It's totally gone!"

"What? What's gone?"

"My tail! That big, stupid tail! It's completely vanished! It's gone!" America started pumping his fists in the air like he would after a goal at the super bowl. "I'm back baby! Mr. America is fighting fit and ready for action! Aw yeah!"

"I'm surprised that's what you're so happy about." Germany scoffed as he folded his arms. America stopped his celebration and looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You kiddin' me? Do you have any idea what it's like to have a spinal extension that's sat, slept, trampled, strung up, pulled, hung by, and crushed on a regular basis?!"

Germany was taken aback and looked about the room awkwardly.

"Er…well…not..really-

"Of course," America came up to Germany and tapped against his chest accusingly. "You just _had_ to hold me upside down by it like I was some shot duck you had hauled in from a shootout!"

"Ve! America please! Don't be so upset about it! Germany's sorry for that! Aren't you Germany?"

Before Germany could either agree or rebuke, America shot his glance towards Italy who jumped and started shaking from the stare he was giving him. America shoved Germany to the side (much to his surprise and aggravation) and marched a few steps towards Italy. Italy trembled worse than when America had held him by the collar back when the whole thing started at the field behind Britain's house. America narrowed his eyes and spoke up.

"Italy…after dealing with you for two months and listening to your complaining again and again only to have you give me trouble after trouble, I have one thing to say to you…"

Italy gulped as his curl shook violently. Everyone else in the room was waiting to see what would happen and were getting ready to jump in if America was prepared to do something reckless.

America closed his eyes and gave the biggest smile he could muster. He raised his fist in the air and gave a thumbs up towards Italy. Everyone looked in surprise as he laughed loudly a few times.

"I had a great time!" America beamed. "I wouldn't plan that kinda' vacation again, but still….I gotta' say bro, you outta' be proud of yourself with dealin' with a crazy dude like me! I'm really glad we got to go on that wild, wacky adventure together!"

America eased his ecstatic look to one of deep appreciation and friendship. "But I'm even more glad that everything turned out ok. I'm glad we got out of this unscathed, both me and you."

Italy looked at America's calm and gentle face for a minute in surprised awe before smiling pleasantly and letting out a couple of chuckles in glee. America closed his eyes in a grin again.

"That's why, as a symbol accomplishing our goal as buds, I want to give you something!"

"Ve? What is it? Is it pasta?" Italy asked excitedly.

"Nope! Even better!"

"Even better than pasta?" Italy gawked. "What is it?"

America flung himself at Italy and wrapped his arm around his neck while laughing hysterically.

"Friendship headlock!" he cried in elation. Italy started freaking out from this 'gift'.

"Ve! This isn't better than pasta!"

America put his free hand into a fist and started giving Italy the biggest noggie he could offer, all the while laughing his head off. Italy was trying to escape the overzealous symbol of friendship.

"Germany!" He cried, "Germany help! He's crushing my skull with his affection! He's trying to start fire on my head! Please Germany! Help me! Help me Germany! GERMANY!"

Everyone else was looking at this scene in complete dumbfound shock. Germany started letting out some spurts from his mouth before bursting into a very rare fit of laughter. Everyone else started to laugh as well. Even Japan managed to crack a smile and let out a few timid laughs as they watched this silly scene before them.

Romano however just snorted in irritation behind Spain

"Hmpff!" he grumbled under his breath. "Stupid, idiot bastards!"

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_**:::ATTENTION! READ THIS!:::**_

**This is NOT the last chapter! There's still one more coming after this! Stay tuned for the final installment of 'The Nekoalliance!'**


	17. Just for Fun

**There's more illustrations from righteouswolf on Deviantart for this story, so go check em' out! They're really awesome!**

**BTW: Thanks for enjoying and commenting on this story so much! I'm glad you guys enjoyed! I know that you probably don't like how soon it ended, but I find that the best stories are the ones where you still want more when its over.**

**This chapter isn't necessary, but I ****_really_**** wanted to make Greece to say that last line (since he's the cat-freak and all)**

**Welp...that's all. **

**HIT IT!**

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**I DO NOT own Hetalia or its characters.**

**...nor do I claim to own the...oh screw it, just read the epilogue!**

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"So that's where you've been all this time! What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh come now mon amie! Don't be like that! Tell us what you did!"

"I said I don't want to talk about it!"

"I think someone's too embarrassed to tell us what happened when he was a petit minou, no?"

America leapt out of his seat causing Russia, China, and France who were all huddling around him, to back off a little. His cheeks were bright red as he straightened his fighter jacket on his shoulders (which Britain had promptly returned to him soon after he was cured) in a huff and stared at France.

"Geez man, layoff! What part of 'I don't want to talk about it' is so hard for you to understand?"

"The part where you don't want to talk about it." France smugly replied placing a hand on America's shoulder. "I for one want to know everything! Especially since you had to spend some much time with my beautiful French territory, ohohohon!"

"Oh don't harass him so much you frog!" Britain rolled his eyes from the other side of the business table as he stacked his papers into order. "Poor Yank's been through enough, you shouldn't bother him….I can't believe I just said that."

"You know, I really wish you had stayed a cat!" China folded his arms grumpily. "At least we wouldn't have had to listen to that rant you gave during the meeting! Shízài! It sounded like you weren't even paying attention to what you were saying! Like you just talked for the sake of talking!"

"Meh, it was a new year's resolution." America muttered, "Anyway, can we please talk about something other than what I was for the past two months?"

"Da!" Russia smiled. "I have something I've been meaning to ask."

He reached out his hand as if expecting to receive cash and smiled childishly. "I'd like that feather you took from me."

"Wh-What?" America stuttered, slightly raising his arm defensively.

"The feather. The firebird feather you took from me. I'd like it back please."

America swallowed and darted his eyes around. "Um…well…the thing is…I don't exactly have it with me anymore."

"Oh?" Russia sighed lowering his hand. "Then where is it?"

"Er…as far as I know, it's probably burnt to a crisp in a pool of oil in a collapsed factory at Germany's place."

Russia's face grew dark as his eyes sparked with a dreadful silvery glint.

"KOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOL…"

Meanwhile, Romano and Spain were leaning against the wall casually. Romano stole a few irritated glances at his wristwatch while Spain hummed merrily. Finally, Germany and Japan came through the door looked worried and exasperated.

"Sure took your sweet time! Damn potato bastard!" Romano shouted at Germany. "Where the hell is Veneziano?!"

"I have no idea where he is, we've looked everywhere!" Germany panted.

"How on earth could you lose him?" France flustered. "He was in this room ten minutes ago!"

"He ran off after the meeting." Japan noted. "This is typically when the three of us go for training."

"Trying to ditch huh?" Spain smiled. "Sounds about right for him!"

"All the same," Britain spoke up placing his papers in his briefcase. "He can't have gotten far. It is a large place after all. He's probably just hiding in one of the rooms."

Germany grit his teeth and clenched his fingers into tight fists to the point where they shook.

"Scheiße! I swear, when I find him I'm going to make him run so hard that he'll—!"

"Germany~!" A singsong voice called. All the countries in the room looked up and saw a huge cooking vat hover into the room. It was set down on the table and out from behind it popped Italy.

"Ve~! Everybody! Guess what? I was trying to hide from Germany so I wouldn't have to run laps like he makes me all the time, but then I went into a room and found this big pot of pasta sauce! How about we all stay and I'll make some pasta for everyone!"

"Sounds good man!" America smiled. "I'm absolutely starved!"

Germany went over and smacked Italy repeatedly over the head with his fist (gently of course)

"Dammit Italy! What the hell was that about?! Going off and running away like that to avoid training!? You know you need to build yourself more than this! If you don't, you'll never get any stronger!"

"Ow! Ouch!" Italy cried. "Germany! Germa-Ow! That really hurts!" He cringed in vain as he submitted to the painful blows (of course, you need to carefully consider the word 'painful' coming from a guy who hollers when a cat licks him)

Everyone watched this scene awkwardly until Britain suddenly leapt out of his seat and shakily pointed at the pot with disbelieving eyes as grunts helplessly left his mouth.

"Wha….Wa…." he stammered, "Wh…Where did you get that pot?!"

Germany and Italy stopped and looked up at Britain. "Ve…I got it from one of the rooms."

"What room?!" Britain panicked as his voice fluctuated hilariously.

"The one down the hall and to the left, four doors down. Why?"

"How the bloody hell did you get in there?! It was locked!"

Italy shrugged. "The key was on the floor outside the room."

"Bu…b-b-bu…!" Britain mumbled as he fumbled with his pocket. Sure enough, there was a hole in the bottom through which the key had fallen out. Britain ran over to the pot and shoved Italy and Germany away. He lifted the lid and then turned furiously to Italy.

"You twit!" he shouted. "Do you have any idea what this is?!"

"Ve…pasta sause?" Italy tilted his head. Britain let out an exasperated sigh.

"No! This is the formula I've been working on all this morning before the meeting! It's the same bloody elixir that changed you and America into bloody cats!"

"Was?!" Germany exclaimed in a cold sweat. This last statement had gotten everyone's attention in the room. Britain groaned as he realized his secret was exposed.

"I was _trying_ to recreate the formula that I lost with that whole incident! Fortunately I had managed to scribble a few notes so I could figure it out pretty easily. I made a larger batch to have more in stock!"

"Dude, why the heck do you need something that turns people into cats bro?!"

Britain glared at America annoyingly. "You'd be surprised, you wanker. Anyway I'd better get this out of here!"

Britain slowly eased his arms near the base of the vat and with a deep breath, lifted it. America raised his hands and took a few steps towards Britain.

"Yo Iggy, need some help?"

"I don't need any bloody help from you or anyone!" Britain fumed as he walked towards the doors. "I can manage on my own just—!"

"Brohas!" a cocky voice sounded as a familiar silver-haired man with a little chick nestled upon his head flung the doors open. "The awesome me decided to pay you a little visit! Kesesesesese!"

"You damn wanker!" Britain exclaimed as the shock of having Prussia suddenly block his way set him off balance. He fumbled backwards as he tried not to fall over with the contents in hand.

"I'll be the hero!" America exclaimed rushing towards Britain with open arms. Unfortunately he had miscalculated and ended up slamming his nose into Britain's head and further setting him off balance. Britain flung the pot backwards which ended up smacking Germany in the face before he slid it onto the table. Unfortunately, the table had recently been fixed up with a little too much polish and the mighty shove accidentally caused it to go sliding down the table. China leapt up and grabbed a hold of it, but it only sent him sailing across the table as well.

"Someone! Catch it!" Britain cried.

"I've got it! I've got it!" Russia cried like a child playing a game. He went over to the table and quickly snatched up his prize. "Hooray! I win! Russia is the best in all the world!"

"Aya! You were supposed to pick up the pot not me, ass!" China shouted as Russia held him bridal style.

"Ahhh…" Russia smiled. "You were a better trophy."

"Let me go Aru!" China struggled helplessly as he tried to escape 'becoming one' with you-know-who.

"Quick! Someone get it before it breaks open!" Britain cried.

Everyone started dashing towards the sliding pot at the other end of the table (except for China whom Russia still refused to put down). Unfortunately, Italy tripped and fell forward grabbing Germany who ran in front of him and causing Japan behind him to fall as well. Romano tried to help his little brother but rammed his head into Spain who was trying to do the same thing. America was still freaking out about the pain from slamming his nose into Britain and covered his face so that he couldn't see and tripped over the pile, but not before seizing onto Britain, who in turn seized onto France and sent them both onto the mound. Prussia had absolutely no idea what was going on, but found himself launching his body onto the dog pile thinking it was some sort of game as Gilbert flew frantically near the ceiling chirping loudly and repeatedly. Russia was trying to keep his grip on the kicking China, but ended up backing into the mountain of countries and sitting on everyone.

The pot meanwhile, had travelled to the end of the table, but had caught on the lip which forced it to swing around the ovular tabletop and go right back to the other end. Unfortunately someone (America) had left their binder on the other end which consequently caused the vat to tip over and pour the flaming red liquid out onto the floor. As everyone looked up at this, Britain cringed a little and said in a very whimpering way.

"Oh…bloody hell."

The instant the liquid hit the floor, it burst into a red gas which enveloped Italy, Germany, Japan, Prussia, Romano, Spain, America, Britain, France, China, and Russia. For a minute or two, the only sound was that of everyone hacking, but the gas cleared to reveal the mound of empty clothes.

Or…almost empty clothes.

"Verdammt!" Germany swore as he unknowingly crawled out of his clothes. "What the hell was that about? Getting piled on like a sack of…"

He noticed his paws right away and started breaking into a cold sweat.

"T-that's not mine." he stammered. He felt his head and noticed his ears

"Those aren't mine!"

He looked behind him and instantly felt his blood run cold as he saw the long, swaying extension behind him

"That is definitely not mine!"

"Ve! Germany! Germany are you ok?" Italy asked as he crawled out of his clothes towards the blue-gray cat. He didn't bother looking over himself, he knew very well what had happened. He noticed movement going on close to Japan's collar. He scooted the clothes around until a black and white Japanese bobtail crawled out.

"Na-Nani?" he muttered quietly as he examined himself. Germany turned to Italy as all of his fur stood on end.

"Italy! What on earth is going on?!"

"Ve~! Well," Italy fretted. "The same thing that I had to deal with for the past two months!"

"I…I think I'm getting a headache." Japan shuddered as he held his paws to his head.

"Kesesesese!" came a cocky voice. The Axis Powers looked over to see a white cat with a confident grin on his face. He had a scar over his right eye and the back of his neck. Almost the moment he walked over, Gilbert flew down and landed on his head completely aware of whom he really was. Prussia swayed his tail smugly as he looked at his little brother.

"You look so stupid West!" he laughed as he brought his paws up to Germany's face. "You still have that silly stern expression on that little face of yours! You look so funny! Kesesesesesee!"

"Stop touching my face!" Germany growled and flung his brother against the floor as the two started wrestling. Prussia was having the time of his life while Germany was trying to get his older brother to stop laughing. They battered each other in a dust cloud while Gilbert circled around them both chirping his head off.

"Well this is just wonderful!" a calico cat similar to Italy but slightly darker fumed as he struggled to get out of his clothes. Romano pulled until he popped out and rolled across the floor into one of the meeting table legs upside down.

"Who's the stupid bastard that did this?!"

"Romano? Is that you?" Romano looked up (or down in his point of view) to see a light brown cat with a chocolate patch covering his forehead, ears, back, and tail.

"S-Spain you tomato-bastard?! You too?" he stayed silent and thought for a minute. "Come to think of it, this isn't going to affect the jackass' schedule at all."

"Oh Romano!" Spain smiled as he crouched close to Romano's head. "You look so cute! With your little paws and ears and tail and that tiny scrunched-up angry face! Why you never looked nearly this adorable before!"

"_CHICHICHGIGI!_" Romano flustered as his face became a red that would've made America's blushes seem like snow.

"Dude, Come on!" America groaned in the background as he was dismayed to find himself back to his furry form. "I just got back!"

"Oh shut it!" a Scottish fold with caramel patches on its left ear and eye, back, and tail chastised as he wriggled out of the green uniform. "We're in the same boat as you!"

"And I wonder who's fault that might be Monsieur Angleterre!"

A silky gray, long-haired cat mumbled as he slipped out from under the bright indigo cloak. Even as a cat, France still had a stylish composition. Britain glared at France from under his thick, caterpillar eyebrows.

"And what's that supposed to mean, you frog!? I didn't see you helping! In fact I say you squealing like a little girl!"

France jumped on Britain and snatched one of his floppy ears in his mouth and started pulling as hard as he could.

"Ow! Stop! Sto-Stop it! Ouch! Stop it you bloody git!" Britain shouted as he tried to bat France off of him. America was watching in amusement and started laughing his head off at the top of his voice.

"Hehehe!" A rather large, shaggy, gray Siberian cat chuckled as he sat on top of a heavy tan coat. The long cream scarf was still wrapped around his furry neck. "It's so nice to see everyone playing together so nicely like this." Russia giggled.

"Let go of me, Aru!" a black cat with fur that was long enough for a ponytail to be made behind his head cried out. China tried to push his way out of Russia's still very solid grip as his kicked violently. "Aya! You adolescent nations all are crazy!"

And so between all the nations, there came a loud rabble of cat noises and activity around the pile of clothes that sat in the middle of the meeting room.

Now it just happened that a certain, laid back country with cats practically cloaking his body was close by. Greece had been passing by when he caught the moment where everyone was piled together just before he had witnessed them all turn into cats. Now he looked through the doorway at them all with his leisurely, half-eyed glance and sighed very slowly and very deeply.

"Some people just have all the luck…" he mumbled plainly.

* * *

**THE END! :3**

**Now get out of here! Go do something useful!**


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